The Rantings of Shirley Valentine

B-9.....BINGO!

2012-01-27T20:59:00.001-05:00

It's Friday, boys and girls, and if I'm writing this it's good news! It means, boys and girls, that I've made it through another long week in civilized society without being arrested for having, no, absolutely being required to, punch someone in the throat because of their stupidity.

Also exciting? Getting word that we do NOT have breast cancer. Woot! Knew it all along, I was just waiting for the doctors to concur with my instinct for these things.

Not very exciting? Having to have your ta ta biopsied because you had an irregular mammo. Boooo! Muy mal. And may I interject here that if you are frightened of needles, you will definitely shit your pants after this little procedure. What a winner episode this was. No one will tell you what to expect with a stereotactic until you are actually in the radiology room ready to have your "biopsy" performed. Only then when they have you at their mercy do they become the gods of transparency with all the information your little heart desires! All this is great if you are the sort of person who does well with not knowing what to expect before you get there - the "what you don't know won't kill ya" type of person....Not so great if you are a control freak, please talk me off the edge because I need to know everything out there about this upcoming procedure or I'll freak out right here right now type person.

So! Being the mega-helpful soul that I am, I'm going to give you all the inside skinny, the 4-1-1, the dirty low down on this whole matter - because I just love you like that. It's like.....it's like...well, an 8th grade spin the bottle fest only you are the only girl in the group whose breast is getting felt up by like 20 pre-pubescent, acne-riddled boys who wouldn't know what gentle petting was like if their life depended on it.

Ok. Not necessarily accurate. Let's try: you have to lay, face down, with your lil lady part dangling through this opening on the table. Then they compress your dangling mammary with a machine that is vaguely similar to the mammo machine that got you there in the first place. With this one, however, they take a bazillion images of your compressed boobala to help plot the coordinates to where the offending area is so that when they go in with the needle and excavator thingy, they are hitting the right area. Translation? Squeezing the you know what out of your bubula, x-raying it a bazillion times, checking those images each time, and then repeating the process because they needed to be absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure that they were right on the area. If there was any hint, even a modicum of doubt about these coordinates, they started it all over: lather, rinse, repeat. The whole time you cannot flinch or move because if you do, you'll mess up their coordinates. When they finally locate the bad part that they need the tissue from, the numbing needle goes in, followed by the excavator, so on and so forth. The whole time, did I mention?, YOU CANNOT MOVE....not even an inch. This was the truly sucky part because I am not a belly sleeper and stuff was just going numb left and right and my neck was like, really? you're keeping me turned like this and we are going on hour two?, this totally sucks. Oh, as distressing as that whole process was, having a needle phobia like I do and being instructed not to move when it goes in was enough to finally send me over the edge - as in thumb sucking "I want my mommy" over the edge. I could put up with not moving for 2 hours - but the "here comes the needle you may feel a slight pinch but for F***'s SAKE don't move!" - that was a whole other level of WTF.

As I'm thinking about this friggin needle I start to panic. My breath starts getting super fast, then the beads of sweat started to roll down my forehead, then my eyes started to tear, then I started to shake with fear....I know, ridiculous, but I have this total fear of needles. Happens all.the.time. It's big league fear not some puny, ooo, I am scared to stomp out the life of a spider with my shoe type fear. Needles: big league phobia.

The long and the short of it meant that for the biopsy, my poor boobala was compressed for almost 2 hours, poked by needles and bludgeoned soooo much that even 5 days later it still looks like it went 5 rounds with Mike Tyson. It is a rainbow of colors that I no longer think can be found in any natural environment; shades of puce, neon greens and yellow - purple that is beyond eggplant - just the nastiest collaboration of Crayola you could ever see. And it's all on my lil lefty lady part. Poor girl.

The uptake of all that? BENIGN!

I am grateful.

What I Am Reading Now.

2012-01-24T13:23:00.000-05:00

THE HAPPINESS PROJECT

(Photo courtesy of Amazon)

Sooo, our book club is back up and running! Or rather, it's never really stopped operating per se. I've just missed the last two meetings which makes me the all time wanker of the group. The Happiness Project is our next book and last night I managed to progress about two chapters into it before collapsing in a heap and passing out.

I think this little diddy should prove interesting as it kept my attention despite the promise to myself that I'd be sound asleep by 9 p.m. and not actually reaching that goal until well after 11. So far I can identify with the author who is about my age, has kids, a background in law but otherwise content in a completely different profession that does not require time in the court room (aka "writing"). She's introspective about her own happiness quotient and whether she is on the right path in her life and if not, assessing how to move in that direction. So far so good. While the chapter on decluttering is already like preaching to the choir for me, I'm going to see this one through as I, too, would love to know how she mainlined happiness and lived to tell about it.

Will post a review - maybe.

Yoga in my office? You bet!

2012-01-10T11:55:00.000-05:00

Mondays when the kids come back to me and we have an opportunity to finally catch up face to face, it's funny to see how that moment erupts into 3 highly excitable faces chattering within inches of my eyeballs and all at once. Not sure if they realize that the art of conversation dictates a slightly more give and take appraoch - slightly more wait til your sibling has finished before you interrupt him or her, but we are building on that momentum. Our dinners on those first nights will often last over an hour with everyone consumed with their version of "away time" as the next family member. Wouldn't trade these times for anything - they are just non-stop with the chatter and I know I should appreciate all this now as one day they won't think it's cool to talk to their Mom as much.

After an hour of listening to the fun stuff and just being grateful that they are back home safe and sound, I find myself exhausted by 9pm. Exhaustion for most Mom's is like an after thought - they just push through and keep going until everything is done. Me, not so much. Exhaustion now for me means sleepy time and dealing with anything else left undone in the early morning. Loosely translated? I strike deals with everyone just to get us in all to bed and resting - immediately. I have also been known to strike deals even with myself about exercising that night because there is still a part of me that despite said exhaustion will rage (inside my head of course) about getting in a workout and think nothing of attempting to squeezing one in right then and there despite energy levels bottoming out.

Last night I assured myself that I would get in a workout tomorrow afternoon sometime since I am stuck downtown all day and late tonight for a meeting. Sweaty Betty on the road? You bet! No wheels to get me to the gym since grandmother is carting the chilins around in my car all day? No problem....This afternoon, I'm P90X'ing the Yoga right here in my office and have all the supplies that I need. God I hope this works! More importantly, I hope I don't fall over during 3rd Warrior pose and wipe out a file cabinet. Way embarrassing and I'm sure not covered by workers comp if I pin myself under it.

Neck Lifts. My latest body obsession.

2012-01-06T14:14:00.000-05:00

I, admittedly, (more like, shamelessly) have an obsession with my neck. Always have. My gene pool suggests that my anatomically horrific chin to neck affliction (a.k.a. Beaker from the Muppets Syndrome) runs way, way back in our family. This holds true for all of our big noses, almond shaped eyes and our wacky sense of humor. I can live with the huge schnoz, the almond eyes and even the propensity to cackle uncontrollably upon seeing someone concuss their head into a low hanging light when others would instinctively rush to the person in need of head stitching. All true. But I've always, always, always, always hated my chin-neck deal. Hated - capital "H". Oh, and I can live with the small mammories too (but that is my own recessive gene gig as my sister never had this issue so we can't blame this on an evenly distributed cosmetic hangup.)

But this Beaker Syndrome that our ancestral make-up has passed down to all of us has driven me to the point lately where I believe my mid-life crisis will result in my having this corrected. I kid you not.

This pigeon hole fascination with necks and lifts borders on insanity. I'll often scour the web looking at "before and after" shots of neck lift patients; I'll vaporize pictures of me which show me Beakering-out; and even avoid having my picture taken at all just to avoid seeing my side profile memorialized for all of perpetuity. Is this a trivial thing to worry about? You bet. Do I treat it as such? Not on your life. This obsession has never left me - it just keeps getting bigger and bigger in my head the older I get. Thank God I'm not into hoarding, right?

Check it. Photos courtesy of www.locateadoc.com:

Before

(This was the bio with the above photos.) After photos were taken 6 Months after surgery/procedure. Performed By Stuart Kincaid, MD

Neck Lift

50 year old, Female, Fair skin tone

Performed by Stuart Kincaid, MD (San Diego , CA)

(866) 379-4414

This 50 year old Caucasian Facial Cosmetic Plastic Surgery patient from Anza, California who was unhappy with her aging face with loose skin, jowls and wrinkles and was interested in facial rejuvenation. She searched for a member of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, and a Board Certified Plastic Surgeon and found Stuart Kincaid M.D to be the best cosmetic plastic surgeon for her. She expressed that she wanted someone that would provide natural results and a safe environment.

Love this shit. Honestly. It quiets the noise in my head just a little about my whole obsessiveness for a normal profile - the quest for the proverbial Holy Grail of Necks and Chins.

If I hit the lottery my friends, you bet your liposuctioned arse that I'm getting this done the next morning. Magical thinking, but every little bit helps, baby.

The Path To Happiness Begins with Courage.

2012-01-06T12:50:00.000-05:00

Ahhh. Friday. The day which magically stops me from wanting to punch someone in the throat who truly deserves it. The day that is so full of relief from monotony and "ahhhhhh" that it should be duplicated. Wait, it is....Saturday!

It's not difficult for me to articulate why I feel this way. Just know that my level of self awareness on this issue is clear, unmistakable and justified. I've deviated from what has (previously) made me happiest in the past and I need to steer myself back on that path. There has been only one time in my working life where I would bound out of bed every morning and squeal with joy that I had to go to work. My friends, sadly, that was many moons ago. In reality, I need to get back to that feeling and stop monkeying around with my days of lackluster service to the public, to myself, to my future. I need to be fearless. I need to just jump - just take the risk. I promise you, this year will be my time.

Courage.

Ever notice.....

2012-01-03T21:16:00.000-05:00

How all the smoke detector batteries in your house all seem to fail at the same time?

Ever notice too how smoke detectors with failing batteries sound like a small team of basketball players doing pivot drills every 2 minutes off somewhere, never sure where, but off somewhere in your f****ng house and always somewhere just out of reach and always right at 2 am?

Throw up your hands like you just don't care. I dare YOU to be the last decorated house in your neighborhood.

2012-01-03T20:37:00.001-05:00

I've gone done it again people. Held onto the Christmas/New Years whole season of lights thing until well past New Years. It's rather embarrassing that I'm the last to tend to my garish display that is so awkwardly out of place now. I actually considered taking them down tonight when I pulled up to my house and saw that I was the only one still basking in the after glow of baby Jesus and all that 2012 revelry. Had I not sweated my balls off at yoga tonight I may have attempted it, but it dropped to like sub-50 degrees tonight with wind gusts of 40 mph and that my friends is, like, just asking for my proverbial sweaty balls to become permanently fused together like a giant snow cone. I wasn't about to chance it.

I'm not proud that I am the last one - my lights blazing into the blackest of nights like I owned the electric company. But I'm not about to let my concern for the sensibilities of all those community gossip-mongers dictate when I will rip down hours and hours of Christmas lights - particularly when it would only result in (proverbial) testicular frost bite followed immediately by 2 weeks of bronchitis. I read somewhere the two conditions are somehow connected. It's in the American Medical Journal, I swear.

In any event, unless the weather warms up or I suddenly become inspired in the next 48 hours to tackle this little indelicacy I've caused with my neighbors by keeping the festivities going long after the tribe has spoken, then I will be raging on with these friggin lights until the Wisemen pull up on their camels for Little Christmas. Which I believe doesn't occur until January 12th? Something like that. So rock on baby Jesus, birthdays are mega big at my house anyway. Props.

New Year!!!!!!!!

2012-01-02T09:59:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! The kids, Big G and I rocked out 2011 and rocked in 2012 in Annapolis this year and wow - what a fun time that was. Prior to welcoming in 2012, I was busy trying to fit massively big toys and dog beds into my massively small house after Santa paid us a visit.

It's all good. All good. Although you know that saying that it takes about 28 to 30 days to form a new habit? Well, I'm beginning to think there is an element of truth in there. Since moving (read, squeezing) Fat Paulie's new hammock bed into the corner of my room and the place where my nightstand once stood, as in, for years and years, I have managed to drop now (at various separate times) a Nook, a cell phone and empty water glasses onto the head of my dog sleeping below me. I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that I no longer have a nightstand there. It's Day 7 of my attempt to reshape my old habit into something that doesn't involve dog heads and concussions. So far, new furniture pattern zero; dog head injuries: 7. But I'm building on that momentum.

To his credit, the dog is firmly entrenched in the fact that this scenario is not changing for him - that his bed is not to be moved because he's decided he prefers that spot and no where else. I know this because despite my nightly and inadvertent assault to his head with inanimate objects, he still comes back every night at 10pm and settles into that bed and goes to sleep. He gets an "A+" for tenaciousness - huge fail, however, for common sense. Do dogs possess common sense? Honestly, my bedroom can't be configured any other way with my bed, dresser, stands and chair. In fact, I've already taken the chair out just to get his bed in. So, it's rather hopeless that I'm going to get used to this before I accidentally kill off my dog.

Anyhoo, moving along.....most everyone speaks about resolutions this time of year. Whatever, that's just way too much pressure for me. I am, however, willing to try new things every new year - sort of a non-resolutiony tradition I have. This year I am giving the "Tabata protocol" a go to see what it's all about. (a 4 minute - vomit-inducing, high intensity daily cardio workout for 28 days - why not, right?) I am also giving yoga a chance to flourish in my exercise regime this year too. I completely hate yoga but I am trying to be more open minded about all things this year - not just the yoga stuff.

And speaking of open minded! Santa gave my 8 year old son DRUMS for Christmas! So, this year is proving already to have many twists, turns, and hope for a wildly great time!

Happy New Year all - looking forward to a wonderful, loving, HEALTHY, successful, family and friend oriented 2012! Muah!

It's 3am, do you know where Elf on the Friggin Shelf is?

2011-12-22T23:51:00.000-05:00

Christmas elves. What to say. Ah yes! In a word, exhausting. Every night you have to remain awake longer than your children so that you can switch up its position from the previous day "undetected" by the Santa believers still existing in the house. (It's a long story, and one that I am sure is better told in the afternoon as opposed to now, the middle of the night). Elf on the Shelf.....worse than having a newborn as they cause you to wake at 3 am in a virtual panic when your sleeping mind suddenly discovers that it never remembered to "move" the Elf on the Shelf hours earlier. It's the same panic you felt when you awoke at 3 a.m. because your sleeping mind believed you left your baby in a store somewhere while you shopped your ass off. Something like that.

Office Cookie Exchanges: Ho, Ho, Hold up...

2011-12-16T10:39:00.000-05:00

Our office has an annual cookie exchange every year. Being that I was raised on LI, I was fond of representing New York at the office (among all my Marylander co-workers) and submitting Black and White's for my offering.

While I was motivated to do my level best to represent, my intentions never fully carry the day as my baking skills, unlike my cooking skills, suck. As in big time. Truth be told, my co-workers weren't big fans of it either. I needed a new strategy this year and one that did not involve me staying up til 1 am baking or alternatively, accidentally poisoning any of my co-workers.

Perhaps I cannot bake well because it is a reflection of my imprecision toward most everything I do. I do things well most of the time, but with my own little flair. Baking requires precision; following direction to the letter. And, well, I'm just never down with that level of precision when handling food most of the time because, well, it has to do with food and food shouldn't be so demanding and get all bitchy like that.

This year I "baked" my cookie submission 10 minutes prior to being due at the office at, of all places, Shoprite! Why the supermarket? I find I'm most successful when I have professional level tools to work with and a stress free (and Fat Paulie free) environment. I was just as surprised as anyone else to learn that ShopRite is, in fact, an all service supermarket. No, correction, ShopRite is telepathic. Because when I arrived to "bake" my cookies at 10 mins before I was due in at the office, why those angels had already anticipated my every wish and had those macaroons all freshly bundled and ready to go for me.

One complaint, however, I didn't really like their choice of packaging as it wasn't personal enough or labeled with my co-workers names - ShopRite had placed all my cookies on one giant tray. Thinking quickly on my feet I hurried over to Aisle 5, snagged just the most adorable bows and bags and sailed through the check out line. After divvying up 6 macaroons per exchange participant, I was back at the office and ready for the festivities.

While this may have been the first year that I didn't bake the Black and Whites, I believe I still represented my peeps from NY if nothing else but in spirit by whipping up the most delectable macaroons in none other than a New York Minute.

Ho, Ho, Holla!

Auto Correct...just nod and smirk, cuz you all know this has happened to you at some point.

2011-12-07T21:21:00.001-05:00

My co-worker tuned me into this website called Damn You Auto Correct (dot com). Here's a sampling of what's up there....all true. Knee slapping hysterical too.

If you own or even know of someone who owns a smart phone, you have more than a remote chance of experiencing the mystery and elusiveness of texting with the autocorrect feature unwittingly left engaged. It's the techo equivalent of pulling your car into a parking spot, taking your foot off the clutch while the car is still in gear only to have it violently lurch forward into the curb and slam your face against the steering wheel. Because that feeling of immediate dread and nausea that follows when you realize that your phone went all "Sarah Connor"/Terminator on you and autocorrected your ass is beyond overwhelming....it's like, find me traffic...immediately! I need to play in it and be run over repeatedly until I am completely dead. It's that embarrassing.

Any hoo....here are some of my faves from the website: http://www.damnyouautocorrect.com/

Now that's funny right there, I don't care who ya are.

I see you. Always.

WHEREIN SOMEONE (other than me) REMEMBERED THE CAMERA

2011-12-02T11:55:00.001-05:00

Christmas tradition states that the angel goes on last. I dig this. Christmas tradition might also state that child who wishes to place the angel atop the Christmas tree must endure a brutal fight to the death with his siblings to earn that right. Well, it might. At least in my house it seems this is standard procedure when "Mommy" can't remember which one of her three had this honor last year and picks the "wrong" kid this year. But this year I am wise to my apparent early onset of Alzheimer's....we took a photo!

Tada! Further evidence that I am a genius (at covering my tracks of ineptitude) as well as concrete proof that my mother still believes I am prone to just flipping my children over my back onto the hardwood floors when the child has completed said angel task. She looks completely worried here doesn't she? Like she must brace this child like that because the tree is actually 100 feet tall and I have my son perched on my shoulders whilst we all attempt to balance ourselves on an unsecured extension ladder.

Of course this is exactly how I left the angel when he was all done for fear of bruising his delicate artistic ego. I was equally surprised as the rest of the family to learn that the angel had miraculously righted itself sometime during the night such that it was perfectly, no, picture-perfectly straight! Apparently even our little angel of Christmas joy is equally adept at covering her tracks of ineptitude.

Second Grade Forgiveness.

2011-11-29T12:08:00.000-05:00

My sonny boy received the Sacrament of Reconciliation for the first time last night in anticipation of receiving Holy Communion (or is it Holy Eucharist now?) in the spring. The latter cannot be had without the former as most of you already know - TRADITION! - no, CEREMONY! - no, more like exasperating useless arcane Catholic dogma. Bitter? Party of one over here please!

Anyway, Lil Dude was just too cute for words in his khaki trousers, baby blue button down oxford and blue and silver striped tie. We could see him the whole time through the glass of the confessional room as he was "confessing" his sins to the old priest assigned to his class. At one point I could see that his head was tilted back, eyes skyward as he tapped a finger on his chin contemplatively. He does this sometimes when he's really concentrating and it's a habit of his I hope he never loses because it's so friggin cute.

Anyway, he told me later that he was thinking hard because the priest told him to limit his confession to his "top 3" sins and he was working it out in his head which ones were the real whoppers. I'm glad the priest was as interested in getting the hell out of the confessional box quickly as we were about getting home and limited him to "just 3". Amen to that!

Dear Santa.

2011-11-23T14:57:00.000-05:00

My ex and I have just figured out that our two oldest kids, who no longer require us to go through the whole dog and pony show every Christmas about Santa, have cunningly devised a way to attempt to get more loot out of their parents at Christmas....by submitting two separate lists to each of us. That's two separate lists with two separate "biggie" gifts and different everything wish list. (For those of you who don't know, I do uphold my mother's tradition of one "biggie" gift for each kid every Christmas. Whatever. Sue me.)

I don't take exception to the different lists as much as the fact that they, correction, the eldest child especially, seems to believe that $800 paddle boards are like, stuffing stuffers and oh yes, if Daddy can do this wouldn't you like to duplicate that effort on your end mother? Ummm, no. And stocking stuffers at my house, for the record, are your garden variety toothbrushes, lip balms, etc.)

At some point I think the kids downed too much Kool-Aid from the Zach and Cody show off the Disney channel because this level of gimme, gimme, gimme, I want, I want, I get, ain't happenin in the land of real - where the rest of us all live. For a moment I actually felt bad for my ex when he said his list involved a request for a mammoth paddle board - an $800 whopper of a gift for one kid if you ask me - and that he's contemplating the pros and cons of it all.

I wonder if he's going to bite on that tall order? I wouldn't because it's not in my budget. Actually nothing is in my budget these days - not even gas - because these days my outlay seems to be greater than my inlay and WTF newly opened Wegmans grocery - why are you so damn attractive and expensive all at the same time? You know I cannot NOT stop seeing you. You're like a heroin in my veins. Does Santa do lay away - like I.O.U.'s? Because I'm dangerously close to wiggin out about the upcoming holidays and what's about to get wiped out in the next 20 days.

The Birds and the Bees Talk. A new era of dialogue.

2011-11-16T10:03:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I am just blown away by the speed with which my children are growing and learning. Every other week when they return to me they are taller, taller, taller! At some point last week, my middle child somehow grew to within an inch of the top of her older sister's head whereas only the week before she had been about 6 inches shorter - causing, of course, my oldest to protest to everyone who sees this that she is going to be the "Aunt K" of the family - read "el shrimpo" (heh heh, that's for you Ka...Love you!)

This is all well and good and natural - if you feed children and actually get them to bed at a reasonable hour they will grow. Also a little known factoid? If you send them to school and demand they learn something, they will. Whodathunkit right?

In addition to all this growing and stretching and learning, they are dissecting every facet of their little worlds: the academics, the social, the spiritual, the sexual. (Insert record scratch here. Yeah, wait, hold up DJ.) And while I have one more year before my oldest hits the teeny bopper age for the first time, she is already acutely aware of sexuality and how it is now affecting the boys and girls of her class, her friends, and her parents. I add (less obviously) "parents" here because while most kids experiences of witnessing sexuality in their parents stems from an intact relationship, her exposure to this aspect of sexuality has to be viewed now in terms of who her parents date and how they handle those relationships - a fact which I believe impacts my kids more particularly then their friends who's parents who are still married. (More on this some other time.)

Yesterday I was ~~suckered~~ ~~coerced~~ ~~manipulated~~ ~~plied with booze by my child~~ asked by my oldest to ruminate with her about some of the traditional talking points of the birds and the bees lesson. I honestly had not anticipated having to have this full on discussion with her until sometime next year (I have no earthly clue why I believed 13 was the age of sexual reason, but there you have it). But as luck would have it, I have been reading a book called "Your Daughter's Bedroom" by Joyce McFadden.

(Courtesy of Amazon images.)

Ok, I'm not even half way through this book yet but what I have read thus far suggests more than very strongly that we should be honest, comfortable, confident and factual when having this dialogue with our daughters about s.e.x. and their bodies. I have always believed I would be all these things and more with my kids when it came to this discussion, but last night I really did it correctly....I think I actually nailed it! A+ for Mom!

I did field the "did you have premarital sex", "what is heterosexuality, bisexuality, homosexuality, lesbianism" and "how do you know if you are or not one?" questions. "How do men and women have sex; how do men and men have sex, how do women with women have sex"? Sex, sex, sex, blah, blah, blah - we talked about everything. And because Catholicism has it's own theology and cannons for all these subjects too, we discussed ~~that bullshit~~ those religious implications as well. And then I had to make dinner before the other two kids not privy to the conversation and wondering where we were cratered from starvation and all hell broke loose.

Of course this anecdotally draws me back to what my birds and the bees discussion with my own mother resembled. See below:

(Image courtesy of LAUNCH9650)

Well, not that bad unless you consider saying to your daughter that sex is '"something" that happens only between a man and a woman who are married"...That, "when girls have sex outside of marriage they always become pregnant". And that "if YOU have sex before you get married and get pregnant then I will not let you live here anymore. You will be on your own."

I know what you're thinking here. My mom, she was just so, so..... Informative. Factual. Non-threatening. Non-judgmental. Warm. Inviting. Mom totally had it going on, right?

I will add the caveat here that no matter how many times I've repeated to my mom that that is actually a precise rendition of what she said to me when I was 14 years old, she will deny, deny, deny ever having said this. Story of my life. Honestly, this was the extent of our "birds and the bees" discussion.

The rest of the B&B facts of life stuff I picked up here and there from my best friends in school; tv; movies; conversations overheard (and equally misinterpreted - dear God did I get some things way wrong like taking the term "blow" too literal). Together my friends and I piece mealed a collage of misinformation, some facts, rumor and exploits that served to guide us all the way up to womanhood until we learned all too quickly that ....we got it all way wrong. And then, angry that we had been so deliberately misinformed by people who claimed to love and care for us unconditionally, we just all went ape shit in college. How do you like us now Catholic moms, huh? Huh?

The point here is that every human, in addition to being spiritual, academic, intellectual, physical, is also highly sexual. Growing up, Catholic dogma and generational frigidity permitted our parents and guardians to forcibly stifle any recognition of this aspect of our being...our sexuality, let alone promote some sort of conversation about it in some meaningful way.

I am happy to report that I have placed this conversation with my children, particularly with my daughters (one child down, 2 to go!) on such a completely different track that it is bound to have a more profound impact on her understanding of herself and her sexuality than I was ever given. I hope so. I pray she will be a better woman, a more confident woman than I ever was at her age. Fingers crossed there.

Dear Rioting Penn State Students,

2011-11-10T13:01:00.000-05:00

It likely will not occur to you now how revolting and repugnant your reaction has been to news of your beloved football coach being fired following news of the pedophilia acts of a member of his staff and his own personal knowledge of this bastard's predilection for raping boys as young as 10 years of age. You may believe that some great injustice has just been levied on the legendary JoePa. You would be dead-wrong. What you really should be is ashamed. Aren't your parents so proud to see you rioting in the streets in support of an administration and coaching staff that placed the interests of a football program over the interests of little boys who were raped and abused by an adult male employed by Penn State?

FYI: The rest of the world does not share your outrage over the canning of a prominent figure in college football history. In fact, it's just the opposite. The rest of the world shares in the outrage for his culpability in permitting the most egregious, abusive, predatory, and revolting case of pedophilia to exist right under his nose. Recognizing there is no way to state this elegantly, let's hope some day you will grow up enough to realize how fucking stupid you're actually being. You, unfortunately, will likely never truly understand the magnitude of this scandal unless and until you have children of your own, or have at least matured and moved completely self-sufficiently and independently in this world - truly on your own. It's ok....we'll wait. What the world is witnessing in your own corner of the universe is the greatest evidence of what happens when power and authority are abused and who pays the highest price for that abuse. Little boys were raped. Did you read those words? Little boys were raped. And those with the greatest power and authority in the administration and on the football team's coaching staff knew about it...they knew. JoePa getting fired is the least of anyone's concern. It's actually appropriate and long overdue. Trying catching up with the rest of moral society and maybe you'll follow the bouncing ball here. They knew. They all knew. ALL OF THEM. And did nothing to stop it.

Tolerance.

2011-11-07T15:51:00.001-05:00

My daughter and I recently attended a presentation by the family of the first victim of the Columbine High School shooting. It was dedicated in memory of Rachel Joy Scott and entitled "Rachel's Challenge". It's mission is to encourage tolerance and random acts of kindness - impacting the world through the power of humanitarian thinking and living. It was a powerful message for these little middle schoolers to hear and I honestly believe it was delivered perfectly and heard completely.

Last Sunday the kids and I attended Mass as usual. What you may not know is that the Vatican is implementing changes to the Roman Missal - one that offers a more precise English translation of the written Word. Whatever.

"Pope John Paul II initiated the revisions to the Roman Missal in the year 2000. The well-traveled pontiff, who was fluent in many languages, offered Masses around the world and noticed the wording was different from country to country.

The new translation will use a more formal language and be closer to the original Latin version. Prior translations relied on a method that searched for the meaning of the text, while the new translation is a more literal one, Todd Williamson, director of the Chicago Archdiocese's office of divine worship said.

A major change is the translation of pro multis as “for many.” The narrative of the Last Supper, which currently reads, “which will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven,” will be changed to “which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

The new translation was a worldwide undertaking that took more than 10 years to implement. At the crux of it all was the English translation.

The English version of the new Roman Missal was prepared by the International Commission on English in the Liturgy (ICEL) with representatives from 11 countries that use English as their principal language."

I, unsurprisingly, have an issue with this. I know you've read this here before, but I truly am grappling with Catholicism right now - have been for some time. For starters, I've always had great difficulty with the Church's open level of INntolerance toward homosexuality, bisexuality, anything non-heterosexual as well as its historical protection of a raging epidemia of pedophilia and egregious criminal complicity ...Let's not get started either on the whole annulment thing and being divorced in the Church in general. I know, this has nothing to do with the new changes to the Roman Missal. But in addition to its already corrupted and majorly flawed existence, now we are finally hearing that's Jesus' blood was shed for the world and, oh yeah, the Kingdom of Heaven no longer has an open door policy - suckas!

As if Catholicism needed to be any more exclusionary than it already is. The Church, IMHO, should have invested its time, energy and effort in restoring the confidence of its faithful in the Church's leadership...should have revisited how to address our youth; tackled the big issues for them like masturbation, sexuality, love, human biology and how all these hormonal urges could be reconciled by the Church as something other than just sinful, corrupting and un-Godly. Did you know, my daughter was told last year in religion/family life that masturbation was a sin? A sin. Haven't they outgrown this medieval dogma by now? You see where I'm going here. Instead it took them a decade to artfully interpret the Roman Missal in a way that is more literal to its Latin counterpart and all of a nanosecond to further alienate (yet again) an entire populace of Catholics. Perhaps they should work on why they had such a huge attrition rate in the first place. Eh?

But last Sunday was the coup de grace. We are revising words like "all" to "many", as in you be forgiven, but not "you," you, and maybe "you" and well, ok, "you" only if "you" are able to be forgiven. Really? And it took you 10 years. I'm tired of all this shit. So tired. These clergy need to get their priorities straight.

How about the Church first take responsibility for all the priests that abused helpless children under its watch? How about the ecclesiastical authority publicly list all the clergy names associated with credible allegations of sexual abuse? How about we notify all the parishes that housed these massive f**kers who were being shuffled from parish to parish to avoid scandal. No? When the Church articulates how it plans to backpedal its way out of an International Criminal Court investigation and prosecution for these crimes against humanity - you know the same Hague Court responsible for convicting animals like Slobadan Milosevic? - that one? - yeah well, lump them in there too because the ICC is starting to frame up the facts with a "crimes against humanity" theme - then maybe these artful linguistic corrections would actually make sense to me. Bring it.

I'd likely write pages and pages of where I stand on that issue, but suffice to say I have a generally hard time reconciling multiple facets about the Church I was raised with. As for our young people, Catholicism still elects to stand on ancient ideology versus practicality in addressing the youth's issues of today. In my humble opinion, the Church lops off its proverbial nose despite its face when it loudly sidesteps sexuality and how this actually impacts children; sidesteps the pedophilia issues; the criminal conduct of the people responsible for covering it all up - and how all this frames itself with the Church's cannons. Yet throughout it all, the Church's position remains one of rigidity and seems to stifle conversation rather than promote it. This is a mistake. If the Church wanted followers of Christ, it needed to lead here. Repetitively hammering away on the same chord or "Don't, don't, don't, avoid, avoid, avoid, sin, sin, sin," without more, doesn't help tie the word of God with what pre-teens and teens especially are addressing with their peers on a daily basis. And that's just the hormonal related stuff. And it barely limps along with affecting or radically inspiring its members to do more, think bigger, help.

This is one of many reasons why I believed the Rachel's Challenge seminar did a great job. It helped move those young minds toward a more global way of thinking. It made me hopeful that one of the basic tenants of spirituality (kindness, love, respect, humanity) was heard. Why did it take a lay person to do this? Because the Church has lost touch with its flock It no longer speaks a language that its followers are able to hear and does not deliver the message of God in a way that impacts them profoundly and deeply. It fails because it is guided by men who prefer to protect criminals and lay waste to innocence. It is led by men who believe themselves above recrimination. And yet we show up every week for Mass chucking into the baskets our humble offerings. For who? For what?

When did I just casually accept all this disgrace and the ruination of innocent children like it was ok. Perhaps the older generation like my parents believe it is ok. I don't. And this won't be my children's cross to bear. The Catholic Church is destined to implode and cease because it has committed acts of terror and abuse against its most helpless and most undeserving. It is unforgivable because it lacks the very compassion that Jesus preached - and has gone so far off the reservation in not protecting those who needed it most.

I'm amazed at times how some devot "Catholics" still have no issue with the Catholic Church. I often find myself arguing with them about useless and inapplicable Catholic dogma. And I don't particularly appreciate how rampant pedophilia within the rankings of priests, all the way up to Holy See, was handled. I never will.

I am INtolerant of such things I guess. And yet every Sunday I find myself there at Mass...like a drone, repeating phrases that barely hold meaning for me anymore and in reality won't much longer because they are changing everything anyway. It's time. I need to reevaluate what I am doing here.

You may need a career change when...

2011-11-04T09:31:00.000-05:00

.....you have a compelling desire to tear up all your bar cards and roll them into little spit balls to go all Aboriginal on the presiding judge. It might be time. Just sayin.

Skinny Girl Margarita. My unbiased review.

2011-10-27T19:04:00.000-05:00

I give you permission to bitch slap me now because, yes, I am going to say the "P"-word again.  Today in class boys and girls, we will be talking about boozing and...Paleo. And on that subject, I wholly endorse.....Skinny Girl Margarita!

Robb Wolf (author of the Paleo Solution) provided advice as well as recipes for a Paleo-centric nutrition plan. One thing I enjoyed the most about this book and Robb, I call him Robb...he's down with that....is how he addressed the fact that a majority of people who embark on this lifestyle will not necessarily give up those things that are a mainstay in our everyday living...like, alcohol. And here is where I just fell completely head over heels for him...he even provided a recipe for his favorite drink, the NorCal Margarita.  Be warned, it is waaaayyyy strong.

I did make this for myself and my friends one evening. And while we all have to start shaving our chest now, I adore the fact that Robb tried his level best to get us all drunk that night through his recipe suggestion. No, I mean, he was pragmatic in his approach to this plan throughout his book.  This guy just got me.  I know I've mentioned this before, but I wasn't about to give up my coffee or wine. Since stating that, I have reconsidered the amount of sugars in wine and embarked on finding a drink that wouldn't require me to wax my chest every two weeks and tasted great too.

As luck would have it, I happened to read about Bethenney Frankel's marketing disaster with Skinny Girl Margarita and Whole Foods. (The short story: she's all holier than thou with her chefism's and marketed this concoction to a corporation like Whole Foods claiming it was "all natural" when in fact it actually contained a ever-so-slight "hint"of preservative for it to be shelved and sold in stores. WF's was indignant when they figured this all out. BF was like, whatever, go eff yourself in Macy's window, I'm not selling it to you anyway. The end. And all the lawyers got paid!)

Naturally, I'm intrigued. Not only because of the legal scraping going on, but because, itty bitty preservative aside, I may have found the Holy Grail of drinks for my Paleo plan. Enter: Skinny Girl Margarita.....

Not only is it everything I never expected it to be (great), it's just so flippin perfect a girl could cry. It's 100 calories for every 4oz glass. I don't salt or sugar the rim of the glass, just pour it over crushed ice and 4 oz's will do ya baby.

It's not at all sweet and the lime flavor comes through completely without causing you to smack your lips together in reaction to the first sip. It's tequila is Blue Agave Tequila and I can't say enough great things about this little powerhouse cocktail. It's a keeper. You can purchase your bottle at (likely) your local wine/liquor store. Ours up the street was selling it for $13.99 plus that ridiculous f'in sales tax of 9%. (That ginormous 9% tax on alcohol? Yeah, I hate you O'Malley. You are a wanka.) I imagine as it's popularity grows, the price will go down too.

Oh, and don't be fooled by the lil 4 oz serving. It packs a total punch.

I finally broke down and got the exercise ball for my office.

2011-10-25T14:43:00.001-05:00

Remember when I threatened to buy an exercise ball for my office to sit on? Well, fear no more...I did.

OMG. Mi arse totally looks nasty and chunked out in the photo above. Sorry if this offends anyone. I think I just burned my own retinas looking at it.

The point of all this? I purchased a large exercise ball to sit on periodically throughout the day while typing at my keyboard. I've become a complete sloucher when typing and I'm not using my core to keep my posture "up". As a result, my belly got ploopy (it's a word, somewhere) and I was getting this radiating, no, excruciating pain in my neck and shoulders. I read that this may help that problem. I also read that it will take a few days to get used to it and for my back to adjust to requiring it to sit upright.

Whoever wrote that finding was completely accurate. I have to vacillate between ball and chair throughout the day as ooooo-weeee this stuff is harder than it looks. What is gone since switching over to the ball? That knotted up ball on the tops of my shoulders and the pain in my neck. Seems like I'm trading one pain for another, right. But if Skippy the wonder commenter is correct, I believe the back and belly will grow accustomed again to sitting properly and this too shall pass.

While you are all waiting for this moment to happen, I give you, Bizkit! (video courtesy of MarinaHD2001, Youtube)

Halloween Trunk or Treat!

2011-10-24T10:10:00.000-05:00

This past Saturday was the Halloween Trunk or Treat Tailgate at my kids school. How I have not attended this epic free-for-all of fun until this year is unbeknownst to me, but I'm glad we made it this year. It was a BLAST.

As many of you know I am not a fan of Halloween. In fact, since I stopped Trick or Treating (let's say, around the mid-80's), I've actually resented it. Without breaking out the therapy couch, I can't tell you for certain why this is so. So all these past Halloweens I've just sort of faked it with the kids..."Yay. Halloween. Again."

This year, the kids were totally offended when I explained this to them. I believe one of them even felt slightly betrayed by my ruse; my feigned interest in this very kiddie event. So when I signed us up to attend this tailgating event at their school, they chalked it up to me having some sort of mini-stroke and forgetting that I had gone to great lengths to explain my disdain for this ridiculous holiday. Signed us up I did and we would be off to the show, so to speak, so long as we wrangled some sort of costume for them. This was an issue as their dad has had them for the past several years of Halloweens.

It was a blessing in disguise for me as I didn't have to deal with it at all. No costumes, no buying candy, no answering the door. In fact, it was a great night to go out with my other single friends and hang. None of us had our kids and we weren't upset that we weren't putting phony smiles on our face and wishing those 7 foot twelve year olds with a giant pillow case in their hand and a Jason mask on their face a "Happy Halloween". Like we couldn't see the beard underneath that mask and didn't know it was you, creepy crackhead from 5 doors up. I'm on to you asshat! I digress.

Back to the "costume" part of this whole holiday gig. Of particular concern for the kids was my request that they "make" their costumes this year. I truly meant it when I said it. Why do we have to outlay all this hard earned cabbage for 2 hours of wearing this shit? Make it at home!, I said. They agreed it was a fair trade for being able to continue tradition. But as the week came careening toward the weekend when this trunk-or-treat was to kick off, and all 3 shared that same glossy-eyed doe look as if looking that pathetic would help a costume materialize all on its own, I realized we were not prepared for this level of cratering when they showed up without anything "cool" for the party.

Hours before the event we were coming in on two wheels into the parking lot of Goodwill. Thank GOD there are places like this in our town - two in fact. I went to the snobbier of the two (the one in the cleaner part of town that no one knows about yet and hasn't been picked over by mass quantities of people). Total genius. And, I might add, we hit the mother load. For a total of $15, I was able to get my boy and girl their dragon and horse costume.

Ok. For the record, the T-Rex head and matching feet, not pictured, did come from my son's toy box. Technicality on the "homemade" part for E.

Below: Lil C's costume rocked. It was just too funny for words. Everyone kept asking her if she was a "midget on a horse". Not sure they do too much "sensitivity training" at their school. Don't these kids know by now that midget is soooo yesterday. It's "little person" now. Jesus, what am I paying all this tuition for?!! Hello?

Below: This was a partial view of the school parking lot. And yes, they were all tailgating out the backs of their cars with food, booze, treats. I hate to admit that I neglected to take seriously the "tailgating" portion of this whole gig. In fact, I thought I would be the only one with dinner for my kids if I had brought it. I also believed that at a Catholic school sponsored event that no one else would bring wine or beer or adult beverages. Oh how wrong I was Watson! I will not make this mistake next year! This is war, Ricky Bobby, WAR!

I believe there were at least 180 cars parked out there. Squint, you might get to see the impression of the rest of them somewhere in the pic.

For my high maintenance kid you see below, her costume was a "Greek Goddess". If you read: requires an expensive wig and expensive accessories with the only "homemade" portion being the sheer curtains, ribbon and gold belt that were used to complete the outfit, then you win the boobie prize! Come on down! Because that's exactly what happened here. For the price of one headpiece and wig, I was able to get 3 costumes from Goodwill for the other 2 kids. Oh yeah, she's a chip off the ole block this one. If you notice too, she has glamour makeup (glamor with an "o.u.r." at the end because it's fancier) ....lipstick, eyeliner and mascara. I don't think anything else mattered to her after that. She was over the moon about being allowed to don the war paint for the first time. I'm not super jazzed about it either, but it was "for the cause" and likely not going to repeat itself until this time next year.

Below: Lil G and her buddy. (Mask not included on original blue butterfly.)

Jennifer Lopez On The Floor ft. Pitbull PARODY! - Key of Awesome #37!!

2011-10-20T09:12:00.000-05:00

Fat Paulie's demographic are the 5 & under set apparently.

2011-10-17T22:12:00.000-05:00

Big G loaned me his pimped out "Cedes" whilst mine has been rehabilitating, no, convalescing again with my mechanic this past week. This car has more flippin problems than Donald Trump's comeover. And while my mechanic is now listed on my Droid speed dial, what he is NOT is someone willing to barter his services in exchange for an autographed photo of Fat Paulie the Wonder Dog. This bums me out radically as Fat Paulie autographed photos trade like mad crazy on school yards....He's just not trending yet in corporate America or anywhere else for that matter. It was definitely worth a try asking as I am none too eager to fork over another $300 for this latest repair fiasco. So what, pray tell, does all this have to do with Big G's loaner to me? Absolutely nothing except his car kicks major ass while mine seems only to know how to lick one. Badum dum.

Primal Toad and McDonald's.

2011-10-12T15:33:00.000-05:00

Are you sick of hearing me talk about it yet? Paleo! It's what's for dinner...and breakfast and even lunch. Hey! Something I've discovered and perhaps I've mentioned it to you already....sugar tastes awful now. Wild huh? Since cutting out the sugars, gluten, all that jazz....when I am (literally) forced to partake in birthday cake for someone at the office, I realize how awful my once beloved sugar-smack frosted cakes are tasting. Too sweet. Everything baked, pastry, pie, cake, cookie....all taste over the top sweet to me now. I find this remarkable given the fact that previously my premenstrual craving for sugar, salt, (but mostly chocolate) was so intense every month that I would froth at the mouth if I found the candy bar jar at work empty and nothing around to calm the savage "me". No more.

I definitely see that this type of nutritional plan is optimal for good health and cutting the addictions that have plagued me all my life. It is really easy to feel the difference when we slide and go off it for a day. I'll start to feel tired, cranky, bloated, even nauseous. My kids still yearn for some level of junk food by the end of the week but again, they are tolerant (enough) the rest of the time. We are hitting about 85%/15% every week and that's good enough for me.

Dinners were a problem at first. I implemented the "you can either eat what I prepare for them/cook or go hungry" policy. I have always stood by the mantra that "if Mama can't eat it, ain't no one have to eat it". And this, for the most part has worked well - pre-Paleo and now. I'm not past having everyone at the table (who's already finished their dinner) to sit, converse, (read) wait for that last holdout - who refuses to try what I've prepared for dinner - to finish at least half of what is in front of them. The kids respect this rule enough now to know that I'm not trying to kill them with my cooking; I won't make them eat something I can't even stomach; and that generally, I try to cook savory, wholesome, delicious meals that adhere to the Paleo plan. So far so good. Once that child realizes it's up to them to eat so the rest of us can clear plates and conclude dinner, the tribe pressure is enough for them to dig in and try what's in front of them. When this happens, the child is often surprised when it actually tastes great and they were fussing over nothing.

One thing that I am absolutely grateful about is the fact that they have no desire for McD's anymore. I don't know if they ate too much of it at one point or if they are truly grossed out by the McD's burgers and nuggets. Who knows. In any event, it's not on our radar of places to go "for a treat". In fact, that whole category has moved, shifted really, from "places to go for a food treat" to "places to go for a great treat like a discount movie". You get the idea. McD's is dead to us. (Sorry Auntie J.)

Todd Dosenberry of Primal Toad took on this issue - the great and powerful McDonald's and the health of our kids in his blog and website here. Check it out. He seems to worry about the same things I do when it comes to kids, their health, and fast food.

Got Hair?

2011-10-10T20:54:00.000-05:00

Helped the kids drop LSD this weekend. At least that's my best excuse for my son's expression here:

It's October, yet here in Maryland the kids don't seem to mind or acknowledge this inconvenient triviality....Fall, schmall! Where there's a pool, they're hittin that! Poor G....so worried they would all come in with acute hypothermia. But I knew better....pre-pool trippin helped them brave the cold. Radical.

Forgive Me Lord but these sacramental classes for parents blow chunks.

2011-10-06T09:34:00.000-05:00

Parents of Catholic kids (hmmm, all Christian kids?) who are gearing up for them receiving Holy Communion by the second grade (a sacrament from our faith) are required to attend these little info-seminars to help our children prepare for this sacrament. Honestly, some days my schedule is quite the ball buster. Add to that an additional requirement to appear for "parental registration" and "sacramental briefing" at our Parish and I'm pushing my luck with timing and fitting everything in. It really, honestly, chaps my ass to arrive at one of these required-attendance seminars only to have the entire content of the folder packet read to us like we are all blind and they neglected to include the braille version of the material or that we were time-warped back to second grade and need the black board and soft tipped black and tan pointer stick to follow along.

I know the program coordinator for this is a nice person..that she wants to do a great job and have the message for all this delivered in a uniform fashion. But hit the highlights already, don't read me the contents of the folder I am going home with anyway. Just mail this crap out to me or have us pick up the folders at our leisure.

Could we all agree to reintroduce common sense in how we approach life? Because this whole "your time is less valuable than mine" b.s. is annoying. And instead of walking away inspired and happy that my child will be partaking in this blessed sacrament, I'm totally pissed off that I've gone out of my way to attend an event that could have been handled better, simpler, differently and without chewing up my gas or precious time that I truly don't have to spare. Could we all agree on this? Everyone, take your head out of your ass and think. Just think. That's all I ask. Is that hard?

Ok.

I'm done complaining.

And on a lighter, happier note....Big G and I celebrated the 2 year anniversary of our first date this past Friday. Love him....!

My flowers from G. So beautiful...just like G.

Politics. I, so far, find these Republicans interesting.

2011-10-04T09:11:00.001-05:00

I took notice of Herman Cain right around the time everyone else did - after that September Florida debate that catapulted him into the limelight. Here's what the 2012 Republican Candidates website had to say about him:

"Declared 2012 Republican Presidential Candidate

Businessman, Politician & Media

Herman Cain

Official Cain website - hermancain.com

As soon as news broke in January 2011 that 65-year old former pizza baron, Herman Cain, had launched a presidential exploratory committee, the first question in the minds of most political pundits was: Does Cain possesses the requisite political pedigree to last the distance, never mind to win the actual race? After all, despite being a high-flying executive in the corporate world, as well as a much-respected figure in the Republican speaking circuit, Cain’s single attempt for public office came in 2004 when he contested the Republican Party’s nomination for the Georgia Senate seat. He was soundly defeated by Congressman Johnny Isakson by a margin of 27 points.

Of course, things are different now. Following a grueling 40-city Tea Party rally in 2010, Cain finished second behind Ron Paul in a straw poll conducted among Tea Party activists during a summit held at downtown Phoenix last February. Sarah Palin and Mitt Romney, his other potential opponents for the Republican nomination, came in third and fifth respectively in the poll.

Cain, a devout Christian from a middle class upbringing, typify the American rags to riches story. His father held three jobs, and his mother worked as a maid, just to put Cain through school. He did not disappoint them, excelling in his studies and earning his degree in Mathematics from Morehouse College, before obtaining his MSc in Computer Science from Purdue while working for the US Navy.

The politics of Cain is like the man himself; grounded, pragmatic and conservative, for he is after all, as he likes to point out, an ABC (American Black Conservative). He favors a return to the gold standard, small government and free enterprise. A confident and articulate speaker, Cain would be a formidable opponent in any debate, and his lack of political experience means he has no baggage to worry about.

Ladies and gentlemen, we present Herman Cain, the classic dark horse for the 2012 Republican nomination."

It is true that I find Cain fascinating. I am more particularly intrigued by his 9-9-9 Tax Plan and think it's a great start to overhauling the tax system. Socially, I do have difficulty with his massively Victorian views on homosexuality and same-sex marriages, which are largely irrelevant if you ask me, as he would have little to no ability to impact or effectuate any change on these issues if elected President. He does, if elected President, have the capacity to implement something like overhauling the current tax system - so I am all ears there.

Next up? Jon Huntsman:

"Declared 2012 Republican Presidential Candidate

Former Governor of Utah and Ambassador to China

Jon Huntsman

Official Huntsman website - jon2012.com

A former Mormon missionary.

Scion of billion dollar chemical empire.

Fluent in Mandarin.

High school dropout (he obtained his G.E.D a few years later).

A personal friend of President Barack Obama.

Perceived by some as evasive.

Hardly a convincing choice as the Republican nominee for next year’s presidential election now, is he? But if one were to look deeper, the affable Huntsman may very well turn out to be the savior of the Republicans comes 2012.

The thoughtful, bipartisan thinking and media savvy motorcycle-riding former aide to both former presidents Reagan and Bush (H.W), exudes a breath of fresh air into the sometimes all too predictable Republican nomination process.

Huntsman is a conservative who is respected by the liberals, a blue blood that is at ease with the average Americans, a devout Mormon with rock music sensibilities and a nationalist that still calls Chinese Vice President, Xi Jinping, a friend.

Huntsman is a contradiction, an enigma, a complex personality; and because of his personal fortune, has never been beholden to anyone. His term as the Governor of Utah saw him maintaining a consistently, ridiculously high approval ratings in excess of 70%. In fact, he won reelection for his second term by capturing an incredible 77.7% of the vote – an almost unheard of figure in modern top-tier politics. The respected Pew Center on the States cited Utah as the best managed state in the country during his tenure.

His time in the Republican administration of the 80’s and early 90’s saw him rising from an ordinary aide to the United States Ambassador to Singapore (the youngest ever at 32) within a few short years. Huntsman is a formidable man indeed. But the most frightening thing about the father of seven is, he appears to have no skeletons in his closet; and that just might prove to be the clincher for the Republican voters and delegates in the coming months."

Jon was (just) barely on my radar until Big G and I had a conversation about the virtues of some of these conservative candidates over the weekend. I knew some superficial things about Jon, I'll call him Jon...we're just buds like that. As I said, I knew some of the peripheral back history on him but, let's face it, I'm no expert....and to be clear, I really no expert on anything. Yet, after hearing about his successful ties to China after serving as the US Ambassador to Singapore in the 90's and after reading up on his C.V., I believe he is the man to watch in 2012. I like him. A ton. I am pulling for him.

SKYPE - a wildly useful tool for getting to chat AND see your babies when they aren't with you.

2011-09-28T18:13:00.001-05:00

I know...so completely stone age that the kids and I weren't doing this since, oh, 2007. But I am happy to share that the kids and I have started Skyping? Skype-ing? Whatever....video "conferencing" with each other when I can be at my home computer when they (typically) call. It's a relief to see their little faces, particularly on Monday's when the silence of the house is rather deafening. Here's the pic I took of them yesterday. So sweet.

Another added benefit? My son doesn't park himself in front of the camera and blurt out monosyllabic answers like he does over the phone. Highly annoying when he does that....."Yeah", "No", "yes" "what?". I even caught him sitting up straight when "conferencing" with his Mama...such a goodah boy-ah. Such a nice-ah boy-ah.

Every little bit helps in these post-D situations. Kids dig and I dig it that they do.

Toxicity, and it's impact on having positive relationships.

2011-09-27T15:51:00.000-05:00

When it's time to let go, you'll know. But for the most part, we all know that snarky, negative, or unhappy people don't really want a relationship with anyone. They relish picking at others and tearing others down. All the while they hide behind a facade that engages the world in a manner that makes one think they are worthy of our attention, worthy or our time, talents, and energy. When you begin to see a pattern in their speech which cannot be mistaken for anything other than snarkiness or misery behind a smile, step clear. Leave them be and just let go. Always be kind and polite to them, but realize they don't really share in your joys or exalt your successes. In fact, they sort of resent them. As the layers of their personality finally peel back, it really is unmistakable. They are in a constant self imagined race to be or have it all. How could anyone else possibly be as driven, focused or together as they are? For these people, I encourage you to just step back and let them walk on by. Because by the time you realize that you've concluded yet another conversation with them and you are left feeling uncomfortable and negative, it's often too late. You've invested already too much time in them. Cut yourself a break and just let go. I promise, you'll thank me for it later. Toxic people can never be happy and their unhappiness will certainly infect yours. Eventually, the mere association with them will cause others to believe you too share the same philosophies, jealousies or insecurities of character. And while misery loves company, in this case you should just decline the invite. Just let go. I promise it will be alright.

Steven Wright just gets me.

2011-09-26T15:32:00.000-05:00

"Babies don't need a vacation, but I still see them at the beach... it pisses me off! I'll go over to a little baby and say 'What are you doing here? You haven't worked a day in your life!'"

Steven Wright

"For my birthday I got a humidifier and a de-humidifier... I put them in the same room and let them fight it out."

Steven Wright

"I'm writing a book. I've got the page numbers done."

Steven Wright

Further Proof that my Idolatry of Paleo is well grounded!

2011-09-23T13:04:00.003-05:00

Yesterday we were finally able to sit down and celebrate Lil G's birthday. And yes, she was able to go off Paleo because of the occasion. But boy did we pay for it.

We could not agree on a cake, so we bought three little ones from the Wegmans that just opened up. Gluttonous, I know. (Gratuitous photos to follow.)

Wait! Go back. Notice the middle shot with my son in it?

Notice how wide his mouth is in that picture? Looks like he's shouting at the top of his lungs, right? Well, he is. Prior to picking up the cakes, we had Lil G's birthday dinner out at a local restaurant. At said restaurant my son consumed a huge container of chocolate milk, downed half a loaf of Italian bread schmeered with an inch thick layer of butter, and a pile of lasagna. Throughout dinner he was twitching and hyper and quite frankly, acting really manic. He was literally bouncing in his seat the whole time as if rocket boosters would materialize and ignite, jettisoning him clear through the ceiling.

This incredible transformation from a boy with great attention skills, manners, and calm to a child with hyperactivity issues and ADD was remarkable to witness. There was one other time since starting this nutritional lifestyle change where we went off Paleo and it was obvious then as well that the impact to him was immediately felt.

Coincidence? Maybe. But the change in his behavior [both times] was dramatic. More importantly, it was immediate. Also, his itchy skin came right back too and he was hitting everyone up for relief. Once back on the plan, however, he returned to his old (Paleo) self.

I think it makes me angry at myself for not doing this earlier. To think that this child was likely getting corrected or chastised for bad behavior which was likely triggered by his own body's reaction to allergens in the very foods he was eating regularly. Poor guy. But we live and learn the dance of parenting everyday I guess. I'm hoping I don't make too many more big ones like this huge one.

Picture Day!

2011-09-21T15:55:00.000-05:00

I am not sure what individual at my children's school was responsible for hiring the photographer this year. I hesitate to even assume they did much, if any, research on the quality of their product or their work methods because these were some mega-stupid people runnin that dog and pony show and I can't imagine these two were what they had in mind for undertaking this project. Hello, mail-order?

The kids were completely grossed out by the photog and his lice-wielding assistant who clearly MISSED the memo from the Health Department about "comb sharing". Not only was the backdrop in "tatters" (a direct quote) but Skippy the wonder assistant used the same comb on EVERY child having their photo taken that day. She never once changed it. Not once. I wish I were exaggerating. I am not. Skippy even managed to drop it on the floor a few times during the shuffling through of kids, as if using it on every kid already wasn't bad enough. Then, after giggling to herself and retrieving it, she blew on it a couple of times, waved it high in the air and shook it (as if DUST were her biggest problem at this point) before returning to using it on her ~~next victim~~ unsuspecting subject.

Again, I wish I were exaggerating.

Living Paleo.

2011-09-20T09:49:00.000-05:00

I find myself up at 5 am when the kids are back with me for the week. Me, 5 am. The same girl who could crank out 16 hour sleep schedules given the opportunity. These days, however, I'll lay in bed at that hour scrolling down my mental check list of what is on the menu for breakfast and lunch for myself and the kids - figuring out what would be great to add to their lunch boxes to keep it interesting for them and exciting. Other times I find myself noting how easy it has become for me to actually get moving at that hour of the morning.

I can only attribute it to implementing all this Paleo stuff in our lives. I say "stuff" like it's some sort of voodoo but honestly, it might as well be a form of old black magic because it is obviously working well, I just have no idea (scientifically) why it does. I am no Robb Wolf. Prior to Paleo, I really had no idea how some simple food corrections through dietary eliminations would really work on my body. But had I known the negative impact that my former dietary choices were making on me - how they would cause me to merely muddle through every day as opposed to leaping at it like a giant cat, I would have done this years ago.

This morning I woke my son at 5:45 a.m. You would think that he would have bemoaned that fact that it was so friggin early and filed a complaint with management. In fact, I half expected him to flip me the bird, roll over and tighten the covers around his little 7 yo body, never to be heard from again until 11 am. [I don't know why I often envision my kids having this much older, more mature persona in these situations...or why I even expected to see his little hand gesturing in the universal "you're number one" sign because he's really a sweet little boy..but there you have it. I'm just a hot mess like that.] Instead, he sat up, threw the covers off, said "good morning Mommy" and off he trotted upstairs to hit the shower. It took me a few seconds to realize that he wasn't having any hardship with getting going before, I too, returned to getting their breakfast going.

What do I attribute this to? I do believe Paleo eating just makes you feel better - at rest and at play. For example, I used to wake up consistently throughout the night...only to feel immense exhaustion when the alarm sounded in the morning. I notice now that I actually rest through the night and automatically wake up a few minutes before the alarm is due to sound. I feel rested. I don't feel like I've watched a clock all night. Since changing over to almost 100% Paleo, sleeping has improved DRAMATICALLY. I see this with the kids as well. They don't seem to be asking for 5, 10 more minutes in the morning or screeching for the other one to get in the shower first just to steal a few more minutes of z's for themselves. They just seem to be able to get up and get moving in the morning. I'm telling ya, it's voodoo stuff.

Last night we had stuffed red peppers for dinner. Total hit. Wish I had photo-op'd the final product. It was one of those super quick, super easy meals. (Sauteed diced sweet onion, garlic, celery, carrots, baby bell mushrooms in lil bit of EVOO; added grass fed ground beef; some chicken stock; kosher salt (I know, but just a little). Since I am still using up the remnants of non-Paleo items in the fridge and pantry I added a sprinkling of grated Parm and some Italian bread crumbs (again, just a whisper) but it helped soak in some of that liquid so the consistency of the pan contents were more like paste to fill the red bell peppers); seasoned with some red pepper flakes, Italian seasonings and finished with a squeeze here and there of tomato paste to stir in for color and then filled peppers. Popped it all in the over for 20 minutes and voila'!!!!! awesome and fast eats. Served with asparagus. Just scrumptious. Really.

Photo courtesy of http://www.everydaypaleo.com/

Will keep you posted as we migrate through this whole new way of being. Oh! I am happy to report that the boy is [slowly] coming around to accepting Paleo more and more. Not completely, but we are getting there. Perhaps his immediately rejection stemmed from the fact that he thought we would be eating ONLY vegetables....but Rome wasn't built in a day, right?

Demon dog.

2011-09-19T12:18:00.000-05:00

Pray for him. He has another long, hard day of napping ahead of him. I don't know how he'll cope with the stress of it all.

So, where were we?

2011-09-14T08:55:00.000-05:00

My dog freaked me out good last night.

Yesterday when I came back from the gym, he kept acting all squirrelly....darting from corner to corner of the house like some jacked-up furry S.W.A.T. dog. Had he a small Beretta in his paw it would actually have looked appropriate. He would cautiously peer around a corner before entering a room..eyes all bugged out. And even when he thought the coast was clear, he didn't mosey on over to his destination. He hauled butt, screeching to a halt and then repeating the whole act again when he was ready to move to the next room. Right about now most of you are thinking you know what's ailing this dog. You're all, duh, isn't it so obvious? The darting eyes, the paranoid behavior, the tell tale persecution complex just going from room to room. Pfflltt....obvious! I'm right there with ya. Meth lab. He's building a meth lab. I thought so too.

But then lo and behold he did the unthinkable and blew that theory away. When I set his dinner before him, he refused to eat. He. Refused. This from a dog who pulled two avocados off my counter and ate them just because they were unguarded on the counter top in a noisy produce bag and the shit was there for the taking. He eats anything. But suddenly, SUDDENLY! last night he decides to get all Charlie's Angel and check around corners before entering each room and REFUSING to eat his normally scheduled din din? Impossible. I would make him eat. What dog refuses food? When I finally got him to come in the kitchen, he kept looking up and behind me with this "I will definitely crap my pants if THAT thing behind you moves" kinda look on his face. He was definitely staring at something, I'll credit him with that. What, I'll never know. I didn't care. All I knew was that if he didn't eat soon he'd be waking me at 2 in the morning to accompany him down to the kitchen for some kibble. I wasn't having that.

But it wasn't until he tucked his tail and ran full boar up the stairs that I decided he was a dork and needed sedation. Even if he could see something there that I couldn't, where was the bravery? Where was his courage? Didn't he agree to protect this house in exchange for his room and board? Freaking me out was not in our contract. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night.

Nor the next night when I arrived home from a meeting to more of the same weirdo behavior from him. He again refused to come into the kitchen to eat, so I refused to go through the trouble of actually feeding him his dinner. His little tummy literally grumbled all night. But hey, he just wouldn't go in the kitchen. Not my problem. When he wants to get over his nervousa gravidarum he'll come into the kitchen and eat! This morning, the gig was up and he bounded downstairs for breakfast, scarfing up everything in his bowl. I don't think he's going to be pulling this act tonight. I think he's going to have to "live" with whatever is causing him to trip like this. He must, because I cannot go through another night of his brand of crazy, thinking that we will will have to go through round four of house cleansings.

Love in Aisle 5.

2011-09-12T10:24:00.000-05:00

APPLE PIE LARA BAR

I know, I know. You say I'm rushing things by pronouncing my adoration for this baby of a snack within like, half a second of tasting it. But honestly don't you know by now that I'm a sucker for naturally sweet things in big, pimped-out packages? Heh heh.

It's Paleo friendly too....BONUS!

Bars come in so many flaves....and contain no added sugars...just the natural ingredients which generally don't exceed 4 things. If you have nut allergies (i.e., almonds) this is NOT the bar for you as most bars will contain almonds or some sort of nut with dates, etc.

It's a keeper.

"Don't ya want to haggle?"

2011-09-09T11:32:00.002-05:00

Shopping for food this week for five of us totaled a whoppin' $98..for the week. I say five because Mama is in with us every week until I can pull a babysitter or extended after school program for the kids from my Mama magic bag of tricks.

For the most part everyone is pulling together with the whole Paleo nutritional plan...most of us except my Mama, a.k.a., "she who refuses to eat".. Who, since my announcing to everyone the new "game plan" has unfortunately embarked upon her full-on, all-out campaign of undermining and subterfuge all the while smiling away and acting as if sun is shining from her every pore. I'm onto her though. And I will win. Promise.

For one, my daughters are actually enjoying the meals I am making. Truth be told, so is "she who refuses to eat" because I find at the end of dinner she is part of the clean plate club just like the rest of us. I might add, it's not because she's secretly scraping the food from her plate onto the floor next to her for the dog to lap up. Nuh uh. We all are so vigilant now of the amount of food she ingests while she is visiting with us that we all but shout out the number of calories she ingests with every spoonful - we are THAT elated to actually see her eating. No ma'am, every one of those mouthfuls of food is accounted for - who's your subterfuge bitch now, huh?

For another, the Paleo plan is not that daunting to follow. When in doubt, I recommend keeping the ingredients fresh and of course, stay away from dairy, legumes, and grains and you should do alright. So what did we do with all the food we had in the house that wasn't from the Paleo plan? Well, in an effort to get rid of the non-Paleo stuff still in the pantry like oatmeal and dry cereal, I add it to a zippy that goes in with the kids lunches of salads (with a protein like lean steak or chicken), carrots, apple, blueberries (they are slowly warming up to those btw), etc. It's a fair compromise between me and the kids who have been scared about losing their lunch staples like cheezit's, goldfish, cakes, etc., to "all that stupid healthy food". It also gives the kids time to get their heads wrapped around this whole idea of Paleo as a lifestyle versus their current perception that they look like weirdo Catholic uniformed hippies eating all this "stupid healthy food". I don't feel like I've thrown the baby out with the bath water by wasting perfectly good eats from our former life because I am using up everything that I had from the pantry and fridge that is considered non-Paleo. It should be all gone by the end of next week.

In the interim, "she who refuses to eat"'s subterfuge of running negative commentaries about how she would NEVER eat eggs or this or that or FOOD in general is falling on (almost) deaf ears. I say almost because she has formed an alliance in the tribe with my son, the youngest member of the brood who also happens to be addicted to her back scratches. She wields this power of the back scratch, no, LORDS! the threat of no back scratches over him that he is bending, slowly, no, CLEARLY to her false gods. My son is theoretically willing to take nutritional advise from a someone who thinks a toasted bagel a day is WAY too much food for one person, in order to preserve the hook of free back scratches.

When picking up the groceries for the week at the market, my daughters were eagerly finding items from the list and running them back to the cart. As I looked up the aisle, there was my son kicking his shoe into the floor, arms folded, big frown.

"What's up dude?"
"I hate this food! Why can't we have normal food?"
What's not normal about apples, melons, fresh vegetables?"
"It tastes BAD!"

And then, without realizing it, my head went into the "when I was your age I had to walk to and from school uphill both ways in the snow" routine and I suddenly blurted out: "Oh yeah? Well, ya know, you should really be happy you're from my generation of Mommy cooks who's greatest crime is feeding you vegetables and fruits and normal cuts of meats and fish that come from normal parts that humans actually enjoy digesting. Be thankful you weren't born when I was, when COW and PIG'S LIVERS were something your "goddess of the bagel" over there thought were fantastically GREAT to feed to children. Be grateful I wasn't taking copious notes on those culinary delights of hers kid. You'd be eating bile duct liver bites right now. How do ya like me now? Huh? Huh? ...Yeah, thought so, punk."

Some people just get me.

2011-09-08T13:23:00.002-05:00

Paleo and my Wild Sugar Addiction

2011-09-01T09:02:00.000-05:00

Week 2 of Paleo at three-quarter speed (versus full speed because I am trying to use up all the non-Paleo stuff I have in my fridge and pantry). And I have to say, I'm doing alright. I am noticing something about this whole plan. It has tamed the sugar beast in me. I no longer consuming 5 lb. bags/week of Domino sugar - in all it's wonderful forms.

Admittedly, while I am trying to be as pure as possible with this whole plan, I have held onto my habit of coffee with non-dairy French Vanilla creamer in the morning and, instead of chocolate milk, I drink either unsweetened Almond or Coconut Milk with Hershey's syrup. Eventually I will take out the Hershey's, but for the love of Pete, a girl's gotta have one vice! This too shall pass. I love that first cup of coffee in the morning, so I do believe that will stay. Also, my occasional glass of wine - that's a keeper. The chocolate, however, will have to go because I am more attached to my vino than chocolate and I refuse to give up my 4 oz. of wine with dinner. I have tried out the 1 oz tequila gold, with 1 whole lime squeezed in and club soda over ice (the Robb Wolf NorCal Margarita)....it is really hateful if you adore super sweet rita's. But I gave it a whirl and it's actually a great, refreshing cocktail to have which last you a while depending on how much ice you add to the glass. The tartness of the lime is something you will need to get used to, but it's definitely a keeper and doesn't make you feel like you've sucked down a dozen Pixie Stix when you're done.

The kids have embarked on this plan as well, sans the booze of course. Their Dad has agreed to give it a whirl too at his house so we have a good shot in about another 4 weeks (when we are on pure Paleo) of really seeing the impact this will have on my kids allergies, etc. I look forward to getting this going full-on. I know it's going to be a positive thing for the entire family.

As for me, the biggest monkey on my back has been my sugar habit. Ah, Sweets!!!! What's NOT lovely about them, except for the fact that they turn me into a glucose/sucrose whore. One pint size taste of Oreo cookie would never be enough for me. I couldn't stop at just one. Instead, I found myself standing in front of the open refrigerator door, flipping packages of Nabisco over to determine how many calories I would need to burn at the gym that day to "work off" the next 8, 9, 10, I was determined to consume. I never once considered the impact the sugar part of that "snack" was having on my system and the cyclical addiction it created just having it in my diet. The more sugar I consumed, the more I craved it.

So here I am, week 2 in modified form and I can honestly say I am noticing huge differences. I have been more energetic, sleeping really well, not hungry, not craving chocolate, and ....wait for it.....wait for it.....LOSING WEIGHT!!!! (And the crowd goes wild!)

Big G and my Mom have noticed the weight loss, although, honestly, the scale is still registering stuff in the high 150's. I have been working out 3-5/week, so perhaps this is muscle weight? My jeans are fitting better again and I definitely see the muffin top shrinking.

So far, we are off to a great start!

Irene Goes On

2011-08-30T11:36:00.000-05:00

This Saturday Maryland received her own personal visit from Irene..Queen of the Hurricane set. Thanks be to God, as my Irish kin folk are prone to say, my house sustained no damage and no flooding.

My County brethren, on the other hand, were not as fortunate. Over 25% of the residents of the County lost power and have continued without it since 2 a.m. last Saturday. I applaud the undying efforts of all the contractors and subs working on the debris clean up and electrical recovery. They've been working nonstop to get everything back up and running. Our office was closed yesterday but they called us in for work today. We were not required to arrive until 10 a.m. and since that time I have been doing this:

Jealous? Don't be...because we too (at the office) are without power and they just sent all of us home. And because I actually have two projects to complete it only means that, for me, the party has moved to my house. And while I have always yearned to telecommute for my job, I'm thinking this may not be a great deal after all. In the timeframe of 5 minutes of walking through my door, I have raided the fridge, checked my personal email, chatted with the mutt and checked on my neighbor who has been without power since the storm. I'm just reckless with time like that...and my own worst enemy apparently. But I do intend to finish up things here, just as soon as I get back from the gym! Heyyyy ohhhhh!

RXeMi - Bathroom prank

2011-08-26T08:19:00.000-05:00

Jim Breuer - Alcohol (Party in your Stomach)

2011-08-26T07:44:00.000-05:00

An actual conversation I had with my anorexic Mother.

2011-08-24T13:36:00.000-05:00

Me: O.K. So we are having the Paleo chicken marsala tonight for dinner. I'll make that now. We'll eat and then I'll go to the gym for some cardio afterward and get that out of the way before I have to pick up the girls.

"Oh no. Don't cook dinner. I've eaten. I'm not hungry."

Me:   You're not hungry. Why? When did you last eat?

"Ohhhhh, 3pm or so..."

Me:   That was 3 hours ago. What did you have?

"A toasted bagel with butter."

Me:   That sounds like breakfast food. You had a bagel at 3 for lunch?

"No. I had my breakfast. A bagel. At three."

(Me reaching for the bag of bagels on top of the fridge where she keeps them. Me rolling the tube-o-bagels around in my hand to read the caloric count of a whole wheat bagel (240) - presuming she actually ate both halves and didn't eat one side and throw out the rest. Me looking back up at my mother with a raised eyebrow and the WTH? expression on my face.)

Me: So what did you eat this morning for breakfast?

"A bagel. But I didn't eat breakfast until around 3 today."

Me: So in essence you have only consumed 240 calories since rising this morning at 7am? And it is almost 6pm now and you are "not" hungry?

"Yes. I'm not hungry. In fact, I don't even want dinner. I'll just have tea and read my book. I don't want you to 'go through all that trouble cooking'. Just take (points to my son) E and go out to dinner. I'll be fine!"

Me: I am not going out to dinner. I have the ingredients to make Marsala tonight and will. What the hell is wrong with you? Do you even know how many calories MINIMUM a human being your height and weight should be consuming on a daily basis just to function normally? 1500. 1500 calories. How many have you had all day?

"Not that, I'm sure. That sounds like a lot!"

Me: Of course it does if your main objective in life is to starve yourself to death! You've had 240 TOTAL so far today and I know I'm being radically generous with those numbers because you likely didn't finish a whole bagel.
******
An hour later dinner was served. It took several requests from myself and my son to coax her down to eat. Bottom line: She ate the friggin chicken marsala. I took her almost an hour to eat it. But I was determined. If I had to resort to chopping her plate of food up in the Cuisinart and forcing it down her throat with a turkey baster, I was more than prepared to do that too.

This is completely messed up. Completely.

Paleo. It's what's for dinner.

2011-08-23T15:16:00.000-05:00

I decided after reading "The Paleo Solution" that I needed to try this regimen with the kids (and me too of course). Two of my three kids have allergy related skin issues and I, of course, just have a big butt that needs to lock onto something other than sugar as a major food group.  This nutritional plan seemed to address all my concerns for their health as well as mine, and also offer solutions for resolving those concerns. Darn it! We were doing it. Executive decision.

Yesterday, I informed the kids that "we" would be "switching" some foods out of our normal daily regimen. Foods like, oh, .......everything. Everything, that is, that they are accustomed to eating and asking for on a regular basis such as dairy (milk, cheeses) and grains (as in bread) or that didn't fall into the hunter and gatherer catagory of "fresh and paleolithic-minded".    And after we all stopped weeping and gnashing our teeth with fists raised to heaven, we agreed....ok, I dictated.....that if after 7 days it was unbearable, then we would simply NOT do this...only I would. To which the minions rejoiced in glee and agreed with my non-ethereal brilliance. Actually there was very little rejoicing after that last part because they were too busy with their weeping and reciting the lists of "snacks" that would no longer appear in their lunch boxes because of said "Mom's non-ethereal friggin brilliance".

Moving forward!!!   I wanted them to understand the finite nature of this experiment - that we were going to see if skin issues (and my fat butt) disappeared just by implementing a few dietary tweaks. That it would be exciting to see if our bodies felt more energetic, less tired, less itchy (my son's back is incredibly itchy - ask anyone), less bumpy and just better......And I, of course, in my Napoleonic way, I got to see if this would make me feel better too - no IBS, no bloated gut, no lethargy feeling all.the.time, no fat butt. And if it helped to eliminate the 5 to 8 trips a year we now take to my son's allergist and the bucket-fulls of money we currently shed on his allergy meds and doc visits every month, then, WHY NOT? What could it hurt?

Well, my wallet for one because organic food is like crazy expensive in some cases and for another thing, I had to bribe each and every last one of the kids with the proverbial carrot/reward b.s. just for having tried it. C'mon it's an adventure. Kids LOVE adventure! They will enjoy this...Somehow. It will be fine. I'm sure. Really. Fine.  Even if it kills me, we are going to really, really, be happy. Really. I promise.

Oh and the shift in the energy force that this all caused in the universe was not, I repeat, not the origin of the earthquake we had today in Maryland.

I hope.

Suave Dry Shampoo and the likes of Fat Paulie.

2011-08-19T11:20:00.000-05:00

Fat Paulie is (we hope) part beagle. And part.....who knows...he sort of looks bull dog, pitbull-ish. As such, he has that hound gland that stinks him up like low tide at Coney Island. He's a fairly good doggie, but let's face it....Girl? He stink!

To combat his God awful whiff sometimes, I reach for my oh-so-favorite household "go to product in a pinch"...Suave Dry Shampoo!

Ta-dah! We reach for this on the mornings when time is of the essence and we are coming dangerously close to missing that point if we stop to partake in our usual and timely morning routines.

A liberal spraying over his coat once and we are back in business and the dog has ceased smelling like, well, a dog. I loathe that "doggie" smell. It makes me think a house is dirty when I can smell that doggie smell. And when I smell it on my own four-legged fur ball whilst he stares up at me wagging his tail attempting to look all innocent like, what?, I have no idea what the hell that smell is either!, my eye twitches and my skin crawls.

Try it on your pet. It does work and you don't have to clorox down showers afterward because you've fuzzied up your bathroom with flying fur and dog...stuff. Just be sure that when spraying, you watch the head area. I've gotten the stuff up his nose once and it wasn't pretty coming back out.

Yoga and it's horrible impact on my relationship with my mother.

2011-08-17T15:18:00.000-05:00

I have always worried about my mother's health. She loves all that pub grub food which could only kick start her one way ticket to strokeville - as her father had had at her (current) age. She is the type of person who prefers to eat out on a moments notice to avoid having to prepare a home cooked meal. And when she does eat, her daily caloric intake couldn't possibly exceed 800 calories in total...for the day. The ENTIRE day. You think I am being dramatic but I actually think that number is way lower. There are days when a bagel with butter and a bazillion half finished cups of tea compose her nutritional intake for the day.

Hence the reason I often find myself worried about her health. And how her bones will likely become brittle as she climbs up there in age and continues this obsessive rejection of all things nourishing, normal and nutritionally necessary. But she has subsisted on this dietary regimen for over 70 years now and, for the life of me, I can't figure out how she stays alive or for that matter doesn't launch herself at all the free food sample displays in Costco from sheer starvation.

When she is with me, I have the ability to observe what she's eating, if anything. Even the kids watch her now and encourage her to have breakfast or lunch with them. It makes them uncomfortable to know that she doesn't really eat. I have no explanation for why she rejects food. What psychological switch was turned on or off such that food no longer has an appeal. I am firmly entrenched in the theory that because she has such a healthy DISregard for nourishing her body that she's developed almost an aversion to the taste of food altogether. That her body doesn't seem to mind being starved or send the signal that you or I would get the moment our stomachs were low on "fuel".

When she was with us every other week she wanted to "workout" at the gym with me and the kids. I wanted to be sure that I could accommodate that request without killing her off in the process. She wanted to "power walk". But I wanted to be sure that if she refused to eat yet insisted on working out than it would be the form of exercise that was NO impact and actually beneficial for strengthening muscles and helping her bones versus snapping them. Enter...YOGA!

So we arrived with our mats and stupid yoga outfits and nestle into the back row. Within minutes of settling into class, Mom had staked her spot in an area no more than a few feet from my mat. We start the class and as we maneuvered into our various poses, that distance shrunk considerably to a mere 9 inches or so until, at one point, I was unable to strike a chaturanga without her gnarly-toed 73 year old foot being stuck up in my face. Which wasn't actually half as bad as when she struck the next posed and ripped this huge fart for the whole class to hear. And because I was the one responsible for introducing her to this class, I felt morbidly responsible for inflicting her air bombs on the rest of the group. And as my siblings and father will attest to, they are deadly. Unfortunately, this one and all the ones to follow, weren't exactly the "SBD's" (the silent but deadly's) and just the sheer noise of them made MY face turn beet red. (What is with senior citizens and ripping them anywhere btw?) So she stars to giggle upon seeing my embarrassment and beet red face...giggling, mind you, with complete immodesty and unabashedness. (This from a woman wraps 10 towels around herself for privacy, while in her own bedroom with the door closed when getting dressed after a shower.) The uptake of all that?

All the ladies in the class thought I was the culprit who wrecked the "good energy" in the room and cast the evil side eye my way! Mom? She didn't care because she knew she wasn't coming back. I cared because now I COULDN'T come back! Beatch...and I was just getting used to it!

Needless to say our relationship suffered quite a bit after that. Partly because she really didn't give a rat's ass about the whole thing and partly because I did and she just wouldn't ever acknowledge or take ownership of the whole egg laying thing she had going on the whole time we were in class and even casually remarked to the kids that "we" couldn't go back to Yoga anymore "because your mother made such a spectacle of herself".

We didn't talk for a while after that. And I even contemplated not feeding her too but relented after realizing that would only suit her perfectly...so I did the next best thing. I served up a breaded chicken cutlet dish that had eggs in the mixture. She hates eggs. I think justice was served.

The Paleo Solution. What I am reading now.

2011-08-16T21:00:00.000-05:00

I have been reading here and there about this "Paleolithic" nutrition/form of eating where science reaches back to its anthropological roots to help us reexamine basic nutrition and radically improve our bodies through utilizing the original human diet in our everyday eating - excepting , of course, the raw meat thing...that's just savage. I won't have it. And I dare say, neither will Robb Wolf, author of the latest book I am reading, The Paleo Solution.  Editor's note: I will say this now so that you, the reader, understand fully that I have only ONCE, once, embarked on a "DIET" scheme in my lifetime. One. I'm not some fanatical diet follower who looks for the latest fad to keep my weight in check. I always used the simple motto that you've got to move your body, exercise and eat nutritious meals to keep healthy. And in following that philosophy in my teens, twenty's and even some of my thirty's, I did ok. I stayed healthy-ish and was content.   Of course,by the age of 22 I was no longer training 3 hours a day in the pool so my body started to change...rapidly. I now needed to concern myself with how I ate and how much activity I was getting in everyday.

I had always been athletic, active, health conscious - literally all my life. After my first, strike that, second child, no, wait, I'm wrong...it was my third child, I was pushing 188 pounds of "luscious" on a 5'10" frame. In college I was all of 125 pounds. But I was training constantly and I never worried about calories. Ever. No joke. You could say I became more than worried to have to suddenly tackle an extra 60 plus pounds of weight that I was never accustomed to carting around once that 3rd baby arrived. So I checked out the South Beach craze. Read the books. Bought the cook books. Had great success. I dropped back down to a comfortable 155.

Then I divorced and somewhere between child number 3 and the end of that, I lost another 20. It was the stress, however, that caused that sudden weight loss. Once it was off and I was not pushing maximum density on my joints, I kept it off with lots of exercise. Then, as all lives do...the stress eased, life as a single mom started to bear down on me and for the time being, my life leveled out and I stopped exercising as much and started enjoying my cooking again.  I shot back into the 140's and hovered there. And then I met G. My beloved Big G. Oh how I dearly love this man. But he wined and dined me! And I accepted it! Lovingly, gratefully, wholeheartedly! I was transfixed by how GOOD all food tasted when we shared it. Next thing I know, we were staying up all hours of the night playing patty cake and singing songs, hardly ever sleeping and just loving the fun we were having.   Eating, drinking and being merry all over the friggin place. What? We could have been playin patty cake! Filthy mind, you.

Anyway...after almost two years together and cooking side by side all these fantastically decadent meals and eating all these wonderfully scrumptious dinners and still staying up all night playing patty cake and singing our fool heads off with our favorite Wiggles tunes to each other and NOT, I repeat, NOT exercising half as much as we used to because, let's face it, who had the time or the energy after staying up all night singing and slapping our......hands.....together.   Suddenly, the scale was reading 162. That's one hundred sixty two POUNDS of "luscious" me. I ain't pretty neither.

Me. 162. On a 5'10" frame.

Next, the pants stopped fitting. Then my business suits. Then I'm purchasing things like SPANX just to fit into MooMoo's and I'm asking for the lights to be out...completely out... as in pitch black, when we play.... patty cake and sing our favorite, what group was it again?, oh yeah! the Wiggles, yeah that's right...that's it, because I am suddenly uncomfortable with myself - with how my body has changed again. I'm no longer healthy, tough or muscular...I'm looking totally girly and curvy and soft. SOFT! Me. OMG, um, never.

And then, I read an account on dooce.com about Heather Armstrong's success with toning her body after her frustration that she exercised and exercised and could not figure out why her body just wouldn't respond to it. And I'm like, "yeah, that's me!" Although at the time I refused to admit to myself that not having picked up a dumbbell in over a year was the cause of my body "not responding" and the fact that I stopped running on a consistent basis and that I just decided to eat my weight in subs again and drink my face off with cappuccinos and copious amounts of wine. Of course that may have had something to do with it...but I digress. So Heather Armstrong is disclosing how she only intended to try this way of eating for a few days and those days turned into weeks and those weeks turned into a month and so on and so on. And the results, she claims, were remarkable and she is completely happy. THAT, my friends, was the "e-pinion" I was looking for....that part that I could identify with and adopt and capitalize on....THAT article turned out to be the precise motivation I was looking for...the proverbial final straw that broke my lazy camel ass self.

And then it arrived. The book. This book:

And I ran upstairs with my forbidden glass of wine (because we all know that nutritionist, every last one of them are loathe to admit that this is like a challis of gold for the soul and just forbid it anyway because they are too weak to speak out against the establishment and say "actually folks, copious amounts of wine is harmless, in fact, GOOD for you"...because they'd all lose their research funding and be out of jobs)...Ok, so I digressed again. So I scarfed down the first one and refilled just to have the right mood for reading such an INTERESTING book:

It's Argentinian. It was wonderful. As was the second glass. By the time I finished, I had forgotten what the hell I was reading and wondered why I was tired so suddenly. And the next thing I knew it was morning and my book was still open to the page that I had read a dozen times or so the night before.

Essentially, I have nothing to say about this book...yet. God willing, I will tomorrow, right?

In the interim, allow me to dazzle you with my spell binding child and her amazing talent for hovering above water:

I know. It's freaky.

First day of school. Who's ecstatic?!!! Woot!

2011-08-15T21:30:00.000-05:00

My good friend sent an email to me today bemoaning, with GUSTO I might add, the fact that the first day of school was upon us. Frowny face, upside down smile and all that was added for dramatic effect I guess, although it was all LOST on the likes of me Madam!

WTH?

Seriously? I had to smack the computer monitor with a "SNAP OUTTA IT!" because, honestly? nothing says "Mama is loving life" like the moments leading up to that first day back at school and damn it! this woman better start understanding this shit or she's gonna be outta the herd!

I've said it before and I'll say it again...unless we are globe trotting or poppin open bottles of wine at sunset on Cape May beach right before the graders come out with their claws to run us over and mulch us up into their combine thingy, then summer is TORTURE! Serious, unadulterated torture. I hate it. While the kids are "off", Mama is working. Well, pretending to type on the keyboard and staring out the window all day if that constitutes "workin".   It's hot. I have to wear big girl clothes. And for the record, I resent every cotton pickin minute of it.

When they aren't sleeping in until 1pm, the kids are complaining that the food in the house is "missing" or "absent". I neglected to fill them in apparently that summer menus consisted of much the same fan fare as what was showing up in their lunch boxes everyday and oh, p.s., you, kids, were responsible for making it for yourselves. Hungry? There's the fridge. Help yourself!     And once they were actually fed, like Sleestack, they returned to their lair of electic babysitter to watch endless hours of television, and play endless hours of Wii and speak endless hours of gibberish on their phones.   Yes, these children are so deprived! Deprived!

If I HADN'T been workin, you all know those children would have been learning Vietnamese or Chinese or candy-stripping or some shit like that.  Geezy Pete. They have no idea how easy their summers are. When I was my oldest daughter's age, I was already a mother's helper working 6 hour days looking after an infant - for like a dollar an hour.  My kid thinks her life is hard when she LOSES the tv remote and has to actually leave her bed to go find it in her room somewhere.  A whole 3 steps from her bedside if it actually managed to fall on the floor, otherwise it was buried under her covers somewhere.

It's ok. I'll wait for you to breathe now.

And my beloved dear friend writes that she is sad the the kids are going BACK to an institution where they are required to use their minds and speak in coherent sentences and use gestures such as raising hands to achieve acknowledgement versus the eye rolling thing they've been doing as of late that will likely end them up in the morgue. I honestly don't follow. Who could not like this?

Exactly!

Who are you mothering friend o'mine? Have I taught you nothing of the true bliss and exuberance one can derive from schlepping these children to, these fruits of our loin, upon some unsuspecting soul who gets paid to fill their head with thoughts of learning and knowledge and can actually demand SILENCE and OBEDIENCE from these same children at any cost when they have been directed to NOT speak?!!!!!!  These are my people....these teachers...these selfless souls who understand me, my plight, my purpose! The same angels who require such a level of discipline during their academic day that my children are actually RELIEVED for me to be home. RELIEVED to see me walking through the door at 5pm instead of Sister Mary Meanface.

I love the start of the school year. I love everything about it. The preparation. The organization. The endless piles of paperwork showing you are in fact the parent and willing to retrieve them from the sick bay when they go all exorcist on the head nurse. LOVE IT!

I so adore my kids teachers that I actually call them by their formal name even if I am 20 years their senior. I don't want to piss them off. They are with my children more than I am during the school year and the level of empathy I have for their plight borders on the fanatical. It is for this reason that I must begin my cult like conversion of my dear friend who is actually "sad" to see the kids going back to school. She's sad. I'm doing a jig. Me thinks she needs a tremendous amount of intervention.

Flapping your arms in exhasperation still won't help you fly.

2011-08-12T17:09:00.000-05:00

On days when you are sure even the most innate, most benign objects around you couldn't possibly serve as an implement of homicide...just remember.....lurking in all of us lies a little postman waiting to come out. And the voices are strong my friend.

He rebuffs me in bed therefore I call arse launching 101!

2011-08-11T12:11:00.001-05:00

Remember this guy?

The one we saved from imminent death? The dog from the puppy pound aka Fat Paulie?

Take a closer look:

Closer...

CLOSER!

Got a good look? Good. He's dead to me...out of the herd. Ever since the kids left on vacation, he's been disobedient, giving the ole stink eye to me when he thinks I'm not looking and sighing...perpetually sighing like I WON'T ACTUALLY HEAR HIM WHEN HE'S ALL BUT A FOOT FROM WHERE I'M STANDING. If he had Facebook I imagine he would have hit the unfriend button by now. That's fine..I don't care. Whatever.

I know he's upset with me because he really loves the kids and he hasn't quite caught on yet why the kids show up one week, are gone the next, so on and so forth...lather, rinse, repeat. And apparently he blames me. Whatever. Call the judge doofus.

On Monday I actually felt sorry for the little bastard because he looked sad when I came back from the office and the kids weren't trooping in right behind me, as if they had been working all day too, right? That night when we were putting on our jammies for bed I extended an olive branch and allowed him to break my house rule of "no furry butts up on any bed or couch in the house". I looked at him, then patted the bed as a signal to him that the house rules were being temporarily suspended in light of his "personal emergency". He jumped up eagerly enough, twirled around in place a few times before plopping down with his back to me and his head RIGHT ON THE PILLOW. Ah, I thought, that will do the trick. He'll snap out of it soon enough. I was still feeling a little bad for him, knowing that he was sad and not understanding that the kids have this routine and it was he who needed to keep up with it. Feeling so sorry for him in fact that at one point I patted his back and told him it was going to be ok...that the kids would come back.

But when he let out this huge sigh, got up, twirled around a few more times, then plopped down again only a further away from my reach did he then have a clear understanding that my love for him AND my patience for his little furry ass attitude was extremely limited. My foot was on his butt and that sucker was launched faster than you could say hello to my little friend.

We are still not talking to each other. But that's ok. I'm sure he'll cave soon enough. I pay for his daily meal plan.

Hey the 80's called, they want Pat Benetar back!

2011-08-10T10:24:00.000-05:00

My Niece had an 80's party for her Sweet 16 and this crew showed up to help celebrate: all the guests really got into it...Very cute.

They got the WAY HEAVY eye makeup down pat! My Lil G....to say that she is now enraptured with makeup is an understatement....and so it starts.

This is my other niece who looks a heck of a lot like my oldest...so sweet.

Baby boy did the preppy route....love it.

Lil C pulled off the Drew Barrymore look really well! (She's on the right).

If I had a pic of me from the 80's...we wouldn't be too far off here.

And a good time was had by all....even the lil guy cousins.

NEWSWEEK: Two steps forward....a billion steps back Ms. Tina Brown. Shame on you.

2011-08-08T21:11:00.000-05:00

(Photo courtesy of Yahoo! News and the following information quoted from Yahoo News, "Did Newsweek Choose Michele Bachmann cover to make her 'look crazy'?" August 8, 2011 article.)

This photo appeared on the cover of Newsweek. It depicts yet another conservative woman running for a high political office as being demented and unstable. The most offensive aspect of this depiction is not that a liberal magazine like Newsweek would stoop to such sophomoric tactics in undermining this political candidate. That was certainly predictable. The most offensive aspect of this cover is that the person directing all this sophomoric hatred is none other than a female editor of the mag, Tina Brown. Newsweek could have shined here and treated this piece with a level of professionalism now lost on the likes of World News and journalism on the whole. Instead, it seems to sink lower than naval lint and belly crawl it's way through reporting and journalistic licensing with every article it prints. Good for you Tina. You couldn't suck it any more if you tried. Here's what Yahoo reported in pertinent part on our beloved Ms. Brown and critics of Newsweek's latest blunder:

...Conservative media pundits responded:

"Under the editorial control of Tina Brown, the rice paper magazine barely struggles against its bias towards conservative women to view them with anything other than contempt," Dana Loesch wrote on Andrew Breitbart's BigJournalism.com.

....It's not the first time that Newsweek has drawn the ire of conservatives--and women--over a candidate's cover photo. In 2008, Newsweek published an extreme close-up of Sarah Palin on its cover, sparking criticism.

"Memo to conservative women," Ed Morrissey wrote on HotAir.com. "When approached by Newsweek or Time for a cover story, always bring your own photographer."

In 2009, Newsweek published an old photo of Palin in running shorts--alongside the coverline "How do you solve a problem like Sarah Palin?"--prompting more outrage among conservatives. (Palin herself denounced the selection of the photo--from a Runner's World shoot--in a note to her Facebook fans: "The out-of-context Newsweek approach is sexist and oh-so-expected by now.")

But critics charge that the newsweekly is using more than just its cover image to editorialize about Bachmann and the basis of her popular appeal. An interior image--featuring Bachmann at a campaign stop and also taken by Buck--was shot from an angle that shows the conservative candidate with devil horn.

(And this part I love friends...it's just PERFECT!):

"Newsweek needs to be ashamed for propagating one of the typical female stereotypes used to denigrate women," a commenter on Newsweek.com wrote. "If you don't like Bachmann's positions, say so. But to slot her in the typical witch, bitch, nut, or slut memes hurts all women!"

I could kiss whoever wrote that comment because couldn't have said it better myself. And Newsweek's excuse for such a cover? "Michele Bachmann's intensity is galvanizing voters in Iowa right now," Brown said in a statement to The Cutline. "Newsweek's cover captures that."

Yes, of course! How silly of us for not being so sophisticated like you Ms. Brown.

And in case you have made it all the way down here and are still reading, (which I find riveting by the way)here is an excerpt article from SLATE.com regarding the Tina Brown's redo on Newsweek....Looks like she's winning hearts all across America with every cover!

Here it is:

What's Not Hot? Newsweek.

Editor Tina Brown lays an egg in her redesign.

By Jack Shafer

Posted Monday, March 7, 2011, at 5:13 PM ET

"The problem with Jon Meacham's Newsweek, somebody said to me last week, was that he didn't like the news and he didn't like the week. Tina Brown's redesigned Newsweek suffers a similar Meacham-esque avoidance of newsiness and the week. One would think that with the Arab world spinning apart, political insurrection visiting Capitol Hill and the state houses, and the NFL going on sabbatical, the week would be so hot that Brown could stir-fry its ingredients for a sizzling meal.

Instead, Brown puts the queen of cold, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, on the cover and fills the corresponding article with hagiography. Also on the cover, she leans on the oldest trick in the magazine playbook—a list—which she runs over the nameplate ("150 Women Who Shake the World"). She continues the women theme inside. Several new big-name columnists appear in the front of the book—Kathleen Parker, Niall Ferguson, Leslie H. Gelb, and Joanne Lipman—but none of them turns a phrase or casts a thought you haven't heard a million times before. This is a meal that a homeless person would walk away from."

Ahhh, thank you Mr. Shafer...you get a gold star today!

The Black Keys! Tighten Up Video...Dig it.

2011-08-05T09:29:00.000-05:00

Hugely great song...super cute vid.

Fans and dog toots.

2011-08-02T13:18:00.001-05:00

Circulating the cooler air around one's stuffy room with a fan becomes radically less meaningful once your gastrointestinally challenged dog parks his butt in front of all that oscillation.

(Photo courtesy of caring4creatures.com)

Gene and Shannon. To be continued? Are you kidding??!!!

2011-08-01T11:04:00.000-05:00

Folks...I am not going to mince words here...Gene and Shannon Family Jewels' final episode was total bunk. Bunk with hilarity, but bunk nonetheless. In short, he did ask her.

And her answer? Well we don't know boys and girls because it ended with the dreaded "To be continued..." before we can discover her answer and why! why!!! when he dropped to one knee she started holding her hand over her mouth like she was ready to vomit and began crying.

I'll wait.

OK. Close your mouth now.

Exactly.

What crap. Honestly. The ole cliff hanger gag. We were thoroughly disappointed by the whole ruse. I will say, however, that this episode was in fact one of the more comical episodes we have seen from the series as Gene attempted, not once, but several times to propose to Shannon on their excursion to Belize.

My life is incomplete now. Thank you very much.

Did you know that it's generally frowned upon to view hard core porn at work?

2011-07-28T09:07:00.002-05:00

.....perhaps a valid reason why my computer at the office is broke...and broke back good if you know what I mean. What? I have no idea how that could have happened! Don't look at me with the stink eye like that! I know nothing of all this...this...sordid stuff. (cue crickets here).

So? How was that? Convincing? No? Yes?

I have an opinion on Gene and Shannon...

2011-07-28T08:42:00.001-05:00

really i do...but i am having computer issues right now which is highly distracting and forcing me to write to you through my phone - which apparently does not like capitalization or punctuation..like commas and such... and while we are chatting here...i am not pleased in the least to find out one of my computers has been a complete whore while mother has been away and contracted some mega virus requiring its hard drive to be scrubbed like a leper. so i am certain you will be waiting with bated breath to discover how the finale ended. or not...i just a realist like that.

Gene and Shannon.....And Fanatical Me!!!!

2011-07-26T10:16:00.000-05:00

(Photo courtesy of TV Guide)

They're baaaaccccckkkkk! Tonight's the final episode! Even my baby woke up this morning talking about it. "It's Tuesday! Tuesday! Gene and Shannon may get married!" Wha? Alright so perhaps my influence over my kids is not as subtle as I once thought.

But it's twu! it's twu! The final episode airs tonight and I am solidly and ardently hoping for the best...the best being that Shannon gets what she wants. I just like her. I think she's a good Mom. They are a good family. Gene? Gene may need to run fast to catch up to her level of companionship, but I'm hoping he does. Fingers crossed there.

On a completely different note, my Nooming is still going well....sticking to my data entry of diet and exercise has been cathartic in breaking the couch potato spell I had fallen under these last 2 months. Buns and Abs of Steel, here I come......Well, in approximately 8 weeks....but I'm chugging along well enough! I'm feeling better again, more energetic...data entry...it's even good for the waistline. Whodathunkit?

Weeee!

2011-07-25T15:26:00.000-05:00

From the Fail Blog Hall of Fame: (love the face of the dude sitting next to Pukalotapus).

Happy Birthday Pop!

2011-07-23T20:45:00.000-05:00

Yesterday my Pop turned 75. I'm here in MD. He's in NY. I likely could've driven up to share his birthday dinner if I left early from work and prayed that my 10 year old vehicle wouldn't die mid-way in this heat. It probably would have taken 4-5 hours. Maybe. If the traffic cooperated. (The folks already rejected the idea of coming to MD - so that was out.) I weighed my options.. Well, I said to myself, "the world is already up to he-ah with this heat and the prospect of dealing with NY'ers under these extreme temperatures, their level of road rage and the Belt Parkway on a Friday night is not something I'm rubbing my hands together about and licking my lips in anticipation. So that's out." And that was that. I decided against the drive.

I felt bummed that I wasn't going to go. I thought about it constantly. Checked and rechecked my rationale. Yes, I was wise not to drive it...the car would have just blown up with me in it and it would have been a scene and a half on the Goethals for sure. News at 11.

This morning I was still mulling this over in my head as I picked up around the house. I came across a box in the recess of my closet that I had long forgotten about which housed some very old letters - dating back over 20 years. I found one which was written, of all people, by my dad when I was in college. Actually, to be exact he had written it after I had only been there 2 months or so.

I wasn't prepared, nor had I remembered some of these gems he sent and I am so grateful I found them and dusted them off today. This is what makes my Dad so killer....he just has this incredible dry wit and he tried, really tried, every chance he got to impart some sense with me - oh had I listened, right?

Love this: (I redacted some paragraphs because my editor says we are tight on room and our advertisers are getting p.o'd with how I drone on....or now how my father apparently droned on).

What can I say? He's my Pop and just so friggin adorable sometimes!

Happy Birthday Dad....I hope I have lived up to all your hopes and dreams for me and that I have made you proud. Thank you for making it all possible. I love you very much. ~Bab

P.S. I still go to Church. Jesus says hey, whaddup?.

2011-07-22T08:32:00.000-05:00

G has this camera that is just radical. It takes professional action shots like these:

And gorgeous stills like this:

It's just fantastical like that. Given the ease with which one is able to take pictures with this camera, I was a maniac and slightly, only ever so slightly, annoying when I was able to use it in Italy. But some of the pics captured the less obvious moments that I would have forgotten about..like the speedos all the guys were given as a present for Italy.

Big G gave his sons ones to wear and I gave Big G and E their "speedos" to wear while in Italy...It was a running joke between Big G and me because we both knew that Europeans enjoyed an entirely different viewpoint on bathing gear. I never believed for a moment that either of them would wear theirs. How wrong I was!

E, in fact, LOVED his lil banana hammock and wore it everywhere there was water. Big G was more subtle and only donned his on the boat on the way back from Capri when it was just us, the Captain and the family. He rocked it though, but threatened everyone with immediate and sudden death if we published one pic of him in it. I jest, he was much more elegant in his threats...more veiled and sophisticated than the crass suggestiveness I just mentioned. More like, I know people who know people and I know where all of you live. Something like that. Back to E....I had actually purchased 2 cotton jammers for the trip and threw the speedo in a joke. God knows this kid already has tactile issues about tags, something being too small or too big...too clothing-like. Who would've thought he'd prefer the electric blue speedo? Parents be warned...nothing is predictable anymore. I found it online for $2 so my thinking there was if he didn't like it, so what. He liked it..To quote the Life cereal commercial: "Hey Mikey, he likes it!"

He was just adorable. This pic will probably pay off in about 9 years.

Gene and Shannon...the update.

2011-07-21T14:04:00.001-05:00

It has taken me 2 whole days to recover from the shock of Family Jewels last episode where the Simmons family clearly delineated that there was indeed an issue involving Gene's infidelity. !!!! Well, 2 whole days may be stretching the truth a bit...more like, a few minutes actually - But isn't it just wildly more dramatic for me to report that the whole unfolding of events of the episode left me stupefied and catatonic? Exactly!

And while the episode itself kept me riveted, it was interesting to finally discover that despite the previous lie detector results indicating otherwise, the family seemed to be confirming an incident (time period?) of Gene's infidelity which may have occurred as far back as when the kids were actually itty bitty. And, and! Shannon was aware of it but stuck around until the kids were old enough where she could leave. Wha? Say it isn't so!

(Photo courtesy of aetv.com. Thanks!)

Somehow I will just need to clutch the rosary to my bosom until next Tuesday when A&E airs the final episode. Will they make it? Will Shannon leave? Or will Gene finally propose? If he does, will Shannon even accept? It's a nail biter for sure! I'm a nervous wreck about it!

I know, you're all "Pfffttt, whatever already - you know it's all staged right?...Der, Asshat!" And to all you people who say that, I say....That's it! You're outta the herd! You are soulless and empty if this has not moved you to tears man, I don't know who you are anymore! This is heavy. Heavy stuff.

Say Hello to My Little Friend....

2011-07-20T14:59:00.001-05:00

(Photo courtesy of WorkSmart Labs, Inc. website.)

Because I needed a new phone and the only ones out there now (practically) are the data phones, I ~~caved to peer pressure~~ was ~~made to~~ ~~forced~~ held at gun point by techno weenies to step into this millennium and pimp out my communications. I traded my camera phone for a data phone. With data phones a whole new world has opened up to me - internet at my finger tips, apps that are entertaining, helpful and sometimes geared specifically toward the Type A maniacs like me who need organization of everything or succumb to death instantly.

Enter the Droid with all its techno weenie goodness and apps like "Noom." Most of you who don't see me attempting to stuff my ~~big arse~~ "newly configured" figure into jeans that once fit yesterday, wouldn't understand why Noom is going to be particularly helpful over these next few weeks. You see, Noom was designed and marketed for the lazy beatches like me who need to keep track of our daily food and exercise or face self hatred and loathing for the rest of our lives when we suddenly cannot figure out how or why we are 10 pounds heavier in the span of seemingly 2 days. Noom allows you to program your target weight and schedule your workouts, track your caloric intake, etc. You name it and it probably does it. Even better is that this app is completely, hold your breath.....wait for it.......wait for it.........FREE!

And the crowd goes wild!

The geniuses at WorkSmart Labs, Inc. describe the program like this:

"Lose weight without going crazy!

Noom Weight Loss is a full-featured app that helps you achieve your weight loss goals by combining exercise tracking, food logging and motivation into one easy-to-use package. Set up a personal weight loss plan and then track your progress, log meals, get exercise reminders, and track all your activities -- from walking to yoga! Everything is either automatic or as easy as possible, so you don't need to be an obsessive Type A to use it (but it doesn't hurt!)."

OK the alien looking guy in the logo who is drawn like he wants to show his package to everyone is admittedly slightly creepy. Design flaw/confusion aside, I think this app shows alot of promise and may be a keeper.

Why torture myself like this, you ask? Why obsess needlessly over the mystery 10 pound weight gain in seemingly 2 days, you ask? Because 2 days wasn't actually "two days". More like, somewhere between that day 1 and day 2 of said mysterious weight gain, a staggering 60 days actually slid in there where I stopped exercising and started eating incredible amounts of food for no reason. All this led me to become generally pissed off at myself about my having fallen into some sort of apathetic rejection of everything that I did routinely and willingly for the betterment of my health - toward being a positive and healthy me.... It was like I had fallen into a couch potato type vortex and it was going to take nothing short of a miracle to get me back in the healthy saddle, so to speak.

Enter Noom. So far after 2 weeks of entering into my phone my daily data of diet and exercise, etc., I have gone from eating a whopping!!!! 3000 calories a day back down to 1400. This week I'm steady at 1290 calories a day - exclusive of any calories I've been able to exercise off. The result so far? I've dropped 4 pounds. 4 pounds! 2 weeks! I'm excited! It's working!

My bad habits had been overtaking my life and causing me misery and angst in my waistline and in my head - I needed intervention. And when your S.O. thinks you look great all the time no matter how much I was ballooning up, it wasn't giving me the motivation to get back into the swing of things. I needed hard core pushing. I needed accountability. I needed.....data entry!!! So, say hello to my little friend. Will keep you posted with my progress! Wish me luck!

Addiction.

2011-07-19T11:28:00.001-05:00

(Photo courtesy of Sharetv.org)

Most of you have lives so you'll likely not care that I am completely and totally hooked on "Gene Simmons, Family Jewels" series. My beloved "little" sister is the root cause of all this evil. Yes, I blame you darling because YOU told me about the show and YOU suggested I watch it and now YOU are totally at fault for getting me hooked on this visual crack.

Tonight, the second to last episode will air. Gene (lead singer of KISS) and his significant other, Shannon Tweed, of 24? 27? years are in crisis. Gene at age 61 is still in rocker mode making business deals, touring, and working his public persona a la the token bimbos. What is not "officially" known at this point is whether Gene is actually monogamous with Shannon despite already having taken and passed a lie detector test on the issue and his assertions that he has been faithful. Big drama, I know.

Why I don't have the level of confidence in the results of the lie detector test stem from the fact that it was administered during the Adam Corolla/and that Red Headed Guy from the Partridge Family radio show. Plus, how they phrased the oh-so-important question of infidelity was lame. Adam stated the question as "Have you ever slept with another woman since 1983" (the year that Gene and Shannon decided to commit to each other exclusively). This, to me, was not specific enough to hone in on the issue. Slept with could actually mean literally, sleeping. Even when the red-headed guy from the Partridge Family rephrased it by asking "Have you made love to another woman other than Shannon since 1983," that to me was again not specific enough. "Made love"?? You can be intimate with someone and not actually have an care for them at all...technically, it was again lame. Of course Gene easily side stepped a land mine there just in how the question was phrased. I was happy he passed, but disappointed that the questions posed were not target specific, so to speak. We don't really know the truth now do we?

Yesterday I was reflecting upon why this reality tv relationship seems to matter at all to me. I'm not a big tv watcher and I rarely follow any series except, of course, the exceptionally written, highly dramatic Alias thriller/spy series - which has been off the air probably for 5 or more years - so why suddenly do I care? I answered that with: number one, both Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed are endearing. I love their relationship, how they play off each other, that they've raised good kids, that they love each other and share many of the same admirations as I do like family, kindness, love of this country and use humor to diffuse moments that would otherwise erupt in fisticuffs for most people.

And number two, it's their commitment as an unwed couple that I believe has had me intrigued the most because they stayed together, without interruption for over 20-something years and without a marriage license compelling them to! This to me is just staggering given his profession and they way the world works these days. I'm rooting for them to work on either level - committed but unmarried or even as just married - providing, of course, Gene has been ah-good-ah-boy-ah.

Like Gene, I often times don't believe men and women really enjoy the institution of marriage. For whatever reason - gold bands and bath towels cause some subconscious psychological stifling to kick in whereby the relationship suddenly shifts quite negatively after one spouse suddenly becomes convinced that something has inexplicably changed by the mere pronouncement of "I do". Why this happens, I have no explanation but I have experienced it and seen it in other couples to understand that it certainly exists. In Gene's case, his objection to marriage stems from his rejection that someone is telling him what to do. That there is an (public?) expectation that he and Shannon marry and he simply refuses to enter into an arrangement where he loses the choice to decide for himself that this is indeed what he wants to do. Of course, as you follow his therapy and hear his philosophy on this issue, one quickly understands that this level of narcissism is only one of many reasons why he rejects the notion of marriage. This to me is again ironic given how conservatively he is politically, how he so clearly adores his partner Shannon and the children they have together, how sentimental he can be, and how driven he is to provide them with a world of privilege.

On the other end of the commitment spectrum is their current living arrangement...the living together, sharing a home, a life, family, everything - together part. To me it seems to work. There, I said it. I am endorsing a lifestyle that is juxtaposed to all that my religion finds morally corrupt and offensive, as do my parents...But at 40, do I really care anymore about everyone else's view of the world? No, no I do not.

I get it too that Shannon wants to be married...after 24 or more years together they are like common law spouses anyway given the years they've been together, (allegedly) monogamous, committed to each other and their kids, how they share their lives, etc. What harm could a marriage license possible inflict given all these elements? Likely nothing unless your partner is narcissistic like Gene is and simply refuses to be told what to do or that he must take the next step.

Here is where I identify a little with this non-traditional (common law partner) thinking. I battle with my own doubts about marriage - largely because of having once been married and then divorced. You would think that having been through it once that the proverbial "next time" would be predictable, easier - and therefore, less scary? Herein lies the rub. Once you've been through a divorce, your perspective on marriage does change, or at least it did for me. Divorce doesn't, or I should say, shouldn't make you feel like "well, got thrown off that horse, let's just get right back up there" because anyone who can survive that level of brutality and eagerly seek it out almost immediately couldn't possible care or even wonder what in themselves and their relationship contributed to its demise. There is little or no depth to someone who feels the pressing need to bind yourself to another marriage when you've given yourself zero opportunity to reflect upon what happened in the preceding one.  But people do it, happily, blissfully, without any thought for why, when, how, or what. Whatever. Is marriage an antiquated institution or am I capable of being married again? These are questions indeed.

In my case, it was the divorce part of the marriage part that got me thinking this way.  I'm sure in every divorce case imaginable (wait! -except my good friend who somehow managed to part ways with her spouse of 16 years without so much as a raised voice) divorce rips your soul right out. Divorce is terrible and painful and ugly - and the longer you are together, the worse it is because in the end, one or both of you won't even resemble a human being depending on how ugly it gets.  Most of the time that is the rule and not the exception, that the longer you are together the worse the ugly in the end. And this folks, is the very reason why my confidence has been shaken about humanity in people or the actual institution of marriage...if you can be with someone that long and still reach for the ugly, that's just revolting. But it happens. Everyday. Of course, understanding yourself, your partner, and working on the important issues prior to gettin hitched is also key, but, well, yeah.  Maybe that's why I was doomed from the start, huh?

Today, despite all that ugly and my vow to just die alone with a million cats, I am committed to a beautiful, gorgeous, intelligent and extremely kind man. We will have been together for almost 2 years in September. I am grateful for everyday we get to spend together, for the man he is, for the beautiful kids he is raising with his ex and for how exceptionally he loves and cares for me and my children. I don't believe I could find a better man in this world than Big G. I adore him and would argue that in some small way I have come to depend on his love, his friendship, and us. And this prospect sometimes frightens me (because there goes my dying alone and million cat dream) and also boosts me up (because everyday with him is a gift). Yet despite such clarity of feelings about G, I don't believe even after all this time together we have ever discussed our future. You know the conversation: the "What does it hold? What do we each want? Where do we see ourselves in 5 years?" conversation .    We each have our own homes. We do not stay over each other's houses when we have the children. In fact when we just traveled recently with all our kids together, we stayed in different rooms, etc. This clearly is not the norm for people (our age - any age) who have been together as long as we have - heck for people who have been together a week. But we do it that way, and it seems to work out alright. Kids dig it. When we are apart I miss him terribly and when we are together it seems nothing is wrong with the world. It's just the best relationship on the planet because there is no drama. Just lots of love.

So why do we not discuss the M word? Likely because everyone around us does it for us and the issue has been soo fleshed out several times by everyone except us that we shouldn't meddle with perfection? Egads! Right? Seriously though, perhaps we resist because things are clipping along without any drama, without any fuss - who wants to jinx that? We don't and have never had an argument. I can't remember one relationship that I've had where there wasn't some "difficult discussion" that didn't morph into a "heated conversation" where voices could be heard raised or upset. Every relationship seemingly has its Achilles heel where buttons are pushed and fights erupt; every relationship seems to have these moments, but we don't. And I'm good with that. Perhaps it's the fact that I've learned now that love doesn't mean you get to go bananas all over your partner or that your partner gets to go bananas all over you when one disagrees with the other. Love means you respect your partner to not go down that road- to be mindful of them everywhere you go, especially when they are not right at your side. Or perhaps it's the fact that this man just the most wonderful man on the planet who would never consider doing that to me and whom I would never dream of hurting either?

Which brings me back to Gene and Shannon. Gene has done some thoughtless things to Shannon. Placed business before her needs or shown grand immaturity when he was removed from the center of attention and Shannon's moment to shine took center stage. The decision to NOT marry is due to his fears, his focus on what suits him personally, not what is best for the two of them. When they separated temporarily, I cried my fool eyes out.

Me. Crying. Eyes out. It was pathetic. Pathetic because 1) it's a tv show, 2) because somehow in following this series I became obsessed with their relationship, and 3) somewhere in this voyeuristic journey through their ups and down, this mattered to me on some weird personal level - can't explain that last part other than to say I am just rooting for them to make it. Period.

In any case, Gene and Shannon are working on their relationship - therapists, traveling back to his birthplace to address his childhood issues, blah, blah, blah. I am eagerly anticipating the airing tonight and all the hope that's bottled up in that little hour of entertainment. I want to keep hope alive that they will stay together.

Will update with thoughts tomorrow because nothing says crack-head crazy than posting about an uber rich mega-star and his common law relationship issues that have nothing to do with me or reality.

The Villa

2011-07-15T11:24:00.001-05:00

(Professional Photos from Villa website. Thanks!)

The Pool.

Not pictured clearly? The outdoor bar at the far end of this shot. Mmmm, mmmm, good.

The balcony jutting off of Big G's room.

We made tons of use of the al fresco dining...the table was huge and fit all 10 of us...with these breathtaking views overlooking the sea. There was something really special about our evening meals at the Villa...With the exception of one night eating out in Positano, the remainder of the time G and I cooked for everyone. It was a fantastic experience and no one died from my cooking!

The little family area off the 2nd level deck which also overlooked downtown Positano and the sea, aka, the Communications Bridge where the kids caught up on their emails, blogging, texts, and phone calls.

The foyer?? area off the hallway leading to the kitchen, the main living room area right behind that and the Communications Bridge.

The dining room and main living room.

The extravagantly decorated indoor dining room which we used all but once. It was beautiful to look at though.

Where the magic happened! The industrial kitchen...I think the best feature of this room was the professional dishwasher. It washed the dishes in under 3 minutes which was key when you had 10 plates, 10 glasses, 10 sets of utensils, 10 cups, 10 bowls, etc., always going and coming out of the butler pantry.

Big G's room.

Four of the five upstairs rooms were connected all the way down the length of the entire Villa...Standing from G's room you can see all the way to my room at the other end of the Villa. It reminded me of the Palace Versailles.

My room...Me, plus 3 bambinos. We loved this room and actually snagged the single bed from the 5th bedroom behind us so that Lil G could be right in there too. Actually, there was another reason we did that, but that story's for a different time.

This was another bedroom located on the pool level. The girls spent all of one whole night here before hightailing it up to where the rest of us were. Again, there's a story behind that to follow.

The view from one of the 2nd floor, upstairs bedrooms. The kids and I actually turned off the air conditioner at night and left our doors open like this all night. Being up that high made the stars seem like we were right on plane with them. An additional benefit of Positano?...no bugs invaded at night..no moths, no Stink bugs, no mosquitoes....Just the fresh night air, the stars and some very tired kids.

The view from my bathroom...Traveler's note...all the bathrooms came equipped with bidets...heck if I know how to use one, so I didn't...I don't think anyone else did either. Wonder what I missed?

The Food in Italy

2011-07-14T13:04:00.001-05:00

Many people we spoke to prior to leaving for Italy advised us about all the wonderful and delicious food we would experience while there...They were, in a word, incorrect. Italian food is good. Don't mistake me. American food, however, specifically the variety and quality of all the foods offered to the consumer here in the States is vastly different - better, in fact. I love this aspect of American culture. I love the extensive choices Foodies have on a daily basis - the cultural varieties that we get to sample just up the road from our homes. Our food seems to excel in creativity, flavor and the extraordinary - the Italian menus we sampled (in Roma) were sort of bland, uneventful and ordinary. This to me was surprising considering the level of enthusiasm some of our friends had about the food as well as the prices we were forced to pay for some of the menu items. Eating out in Rome, by the way, was expensive. If you love to cook, are a good cook, or have eaten out in any number of Zagat rated or worthy restaurants scattered around, you'd likely agree with this sentiment.

Notice the intensity with which they are discussing the menu items....I presume they did this 1) because we walked their little legs off prior to letting them sit, rest, and eat - leaving them with the impression of course that this could very well be their last meal of the day if we had to walk all the way back to the hotel or 2) they were negotiating which dish they would each get such that they could split their plate with their buddy so as to sample not one, but TWO different dishes! or 3) they were plotting to overthrow the adults in the group who just forced them to walk 3 miles in 90 degree heat.

I'm thinking he's either remembered that his napkin must go on his lap before dinner or he's constructing a make shift hat to shield his fried head from the sun.

No, they are not studying the bible here...they are concentrating on how many ways the menu offers pasta...Pasta with polpettini, pasta with alfredo, pasta with the "shrimps"...Trust me, 1000's.

Lil C's reaction every time she discovered there was Gelato on the menu! Which was, ironically, at every place we stopped and ate.

Mopeds and little bikes...they were every where.

Journey to Capri

2011-07-13T11:28:00.000-05:00

We rented a private boat while in Positano to take us over to Capri. The tour lasted all day (practically) - stopping along the way to visit the White, Green and Blue Grotto's and allow the kids (and the adults) to swim around. Here are some of the views along the way.....

This kids were all about hanging out on the front of the boat as we meandered around the Isle of Capri....

The water was warm, clear and beautiful....perfect for swimming!

Italia!

2011-07-11T10:48:00.000-05:00

Pompeii

Vatican Museum - Inner Courtyard

Victor Emmanuel II - Memorial

Victor Emmanuel II Memorial - First King of Italy

The Colosseum (phone pic):

You too can be a gladiator!!!!

Victor Emmanuel II Memorial (again) - Can you tell I fell in love with this??

Lil G - Roman hipster.

Big G - Roman god.

Ahhhh, the infamous Trevi Fountain - unbelievably and staggeringly impressive...It was giant and beautiful!!!

The throngs of people who visited the fountain...daily.

One of many fountains available throughout the city which you could drink from...oddly we all had some sort of gastrointestinal issue toward the end of the trip....the culprit perhaps? Or mere coincidence? Hmmm, I think not.

There was lots of love to be had at the Trevi Fountain....I think the earth fell off its axis when this moment happened...most of the time these girls are swiping at each other like angry felines.

Yes, I'm still in shock. All three, actually within inches of each others personal space and no blood to be found anywhere.

The Pantheon - this was one of my faves and not just because it was virtually the only FREE tourist attraction in Roma....

The Pantheon Dome...stunning.

Every Morning - There was always a great stampede of feet and small children barreling toward any available cappachino. Yes, that is my baby down there at the bottom of the pic, cozying up to the caffe bar for his fix.

The Vatican - St. Peter's Basilica - We broke into it quite accidentally...Actually the kids and I did not want to wait in the sun and heat for an hour to process through the cue to get in here...so we went in the back way - literally and voila! Basilica trespassers!

Pope John Paul II - still raging with popularity...Poor Benedict...no love.

Swiss Guards from the Silly Pants Gang! Nothing says intimidating like silly pants!

St. Peter's was the most beautiful religious structure I have ever seen in my life.

More pics to follow...stay tuned!

Kids are so literal!

2011-06-14T15:21:00.000-05:00

Replacing the flooring in my upstairs bathroom required me to remove the toilet completely from that room. When my son saw it sitting near a recess at the end of the hallway he was overjoyed. "Hey Ma! What a great idea! Now I don't have to wait if someone's in the bathroom! I can just use this toilet out here! I like it!"

As he proceeded to raise the lid to simulate a demonstration, the rest of us watching him let out such a collective screech that he jumped back suddenly and dropped the top looking at us like "What?!!!"

"Um. You can't actually use that one babe....it's not hooked up to the plumbing. Where would all that stuff go?"

""Huh." He said as he stared down at the offending bowl with great disappointment. "Well if we can't use it, why would you even put it here?!!!" he said in his most exasperated and disapproving tone, arms flapping in chorus.

"Yes, well of course, I didn't mean to be so wicked, child, and trick you in such an unconscionable manner. How ever will you forgive your mother?"

You know it's hot when....

2011-06-09T09:39:00.000-05:00

...right after putting your face on in the morning and walking to your car parked inches from your front door, half of your makeup slides off and droops down, making you suddenly appear as if overcome by stroke.

Lil G rockin "Caro mia ben"!

2011-06-06T11:45:00.003-05:00

Ok, the mother of the baby crying in the background truly needs a kick to the head for NOT removing him the moment he started interrupting the recital. Very selfish. Totally selfish woman. It wasn't until the whole room turned around to look at her like, "Really Lady? Really?" that she suddenly clued into the fact that SHE was being a major asshat. With her gone, tempers simmered and you can actually hear the piece. Here's Lil G.

My little songbird.

It just keeps getting better with every text.

2011-05-27T15:57:00.001-05:00

Stuck at work on a brilliantly gorgeous day whilst my friends frolic with their babes at the Club pool, taunting, taunting that they are free and enjoying the sun and fun whilst I suffer here flying my desk.

Text from friend: Hey! We're at the pool. It's getting a little crazy over here. They are playing house music and there is a man in a Thor costume. Hummmm.
Me: When Thor starts serving Mai Tai's and dancin around in a banana hammock..call me immediately. I'm serious. I will leave work to see that s***!

Friend: Wish you guys were here. It is very very odd....But Thor does seem to have a big hammer. Seriously, this is like some Jersey Shore nightmare!

Me: Yeah, but you said he's got himself a big hammer (fist pump) ...That's a party right there..I'm tellin ya...Thor is just ACTING like he needs an amazon sandwich to a little house music.

Friend: Thor is about to give a speech. My "C" feels sorry for Thor because none of these hooligan children are gathering for his speech. It may be cancelled for lack of attendance.

Me: C, she's all heart that kid! so sweet. U walk her up and discreetly wave a dollar in front of Thor with a come hither look and see if he takes the bait.

Then the picture of Thor arrives:

Damn...he's got to be smokin hot in that costume in this heat! tell Thor u feel his pain and will assist him in cooling down by helping him out of that cape and winged ears thingy. remember the "waving of the dollar oh so discreetly and the come hither stare"...he gotta jump at that...he's probably sweating his buns off!

Dreamin.

2011-05-27T15:14:00.000-05:00

I had a dream last night which has stayed with me all day. Well, one particular part of it. I was on some sort of field trip with my kids...something along the lines of camping or a rugged adventure which we drove to in a yellow school bus. The kids and I had gathered together by a chain link fence in the parking lot away from the crowds who were disembarking and scattering like rats over the hills. As I organized their clothes, we talked and I reminded them where to find everything when they needed it. Nodding like they understood I told them to go off and have fun. As I walked in the other direction toward other parents, the sky opened up and the rain began falling in torrents..Huge drops which hit the ground and immediately accumulated in width and height. As I started sprinting back toward the kids to get them back on the bus, hopping as best I could over the large puddles that were quickly forming, I noticed all the clothes and gear I had just organized for them started floating and then began swirling what was now an angry little river that suddenly appeared under my feet. I remember feeling tremendous sadness as I tried to push through all the water now calf-high, reaching blindly for clothes and a pack that swished by, frantically trying to scoop up whatever swirled by my legs.

So. What does this all mean? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Gadgety goodness.

2011-05-12T07:49:00.000-05:00

My son loves signing my name on the card swipe machine at stores, so much that he is not beyond elbowing one of his sisters in the nose to get it done.

I have no issue with him jockeying for position and playing "sibling survivalist" when competing for interesting things against taller, older, and bigger sibs - it's part of family livin'. I perhaps should have checked, however, what he was actually writing with the electric stylus because I'm sure my bank is not familiar with my alter ego/alias signature of: "MOM" when I'm looking to keep things on the down low.

Speaking of accomplice..You say bad, but I'm thinking plain genius!

2011-04-19T13:47:00.000-05:00

This morning I TOTALLY spaced on getting that pesky dollar under my son's pillow from the "tooth fairy". Admittedly there was no tooth for the tooth fairy to barter for as the lad actually swallowed this one at dinner, but that's beside the point!

Enter older sibling who 1) no longer believes in fairies and pixies and weirdo winged creatures that harvest teeth in exchange for currency; and 2) showed a willingness to smash open her monkey bank of "chump" change all in the name of preserving innocence and helping her Mom recover from a bad case of the "Ah Sh**! I totally forgot to do that!". ***Authors note: It wouldn't have mattered anyway had I actually remembered as 1) I hardly ever carry cash; 2) If I have cash it's usually 20's - never broken because Jesus, once you break those suckers it's all down hill from there in a "spend, spend, spend!" frenzy and 3) why carry one's when I have a houseful of back up peeps all under 4 feet in height who often are loaded down with more George Washington's than a stripper from The Block.

Result? Innocence lives to see another day in my house! My last tooth fairy hold out still believes in her existence and I have discovered something extraordinary as well. My daughter really is an uber sweet human being because not once did she demand double interest on her unsecured loan to me....Ha ha! Winning! I mean, isn't she just a doll baby?

How exacting are you?

2011-04-19T13:28:00.001-05:00

Sitting next to my son at his last wrestling match made me realize how much this kid o'mine actually knows himself already, knows how to get what he needs with the least amount of effort, and does. All this and he's still in the single digits.

He was sitting next to me on the bench, intensely watching the match before his which was taking place in the ring - that I foolishly took his look to mean that he was eager to get in there next and "rastle" his little butt off. I watched him for some time as he stared carefully at the wrestlers, studying them, then wincing visibly when the kid on the bottom took an elbow to the nose and starting wailing.

As coaches and parents rushed in, interrupting the match so that this ever growing biohazard spewing from the child's nose could be contained, my son, without missing a beat turned to me and said, "Ya know Mom? I really hate wrestling. I mean hate it. I don't like it at all. You get hurt like that kid just did and it's not good! And all I want to do is go home and not do this."

"Ah, well, nobody really takes a shine to anything right away. You just need to give it some more time love. Don't you think you need to give it some time to see if this really isn't right for you?

"No!" He said quite definitely.

"Well, how about you at least finish up this match? You can do that, can't you? It's your last match for today."

He just looked at me with those big Tweety Bird eyes of his like I had just asked him dress in plaid fuschia.. After a time he turned away, arms folded and said ""I'm not. I'm NOT going to go back in there and if you make me, I'm just gonna get pinned and then I'll be done and I won't have to wrestle anymore and I can go home."

"Really?" I said.

"Really."

I thought about how confidently he said this and then thought about how embarrassed his father ( a former D-1 wrestler himself) would be to see his son just walk out there, flop onto his back, and wait for the ref to tap the mat 3 times consecutively and call it a day. I thought too of the insanity of walking that line of parenting between where your kid totally doesn't have an ounce of love for what you've just encouraged him to get involved in and the lesson of never just giving up without a fight. But I also knew my son well enough to know how determined and stubborn he could be when he put his mind to it. It was right then that I decided I wanted to help him, as in, be an accomplice to this masterful plan.

"OK." I finally said. "If you're gonna do it. At least make it look good."

He looked at me with this huge sly smile and said "I will Mom. I will." And sure as shootin, when it was his time to roll up on his opponent, he did exactly what he set out to do and within minutes we were on our way home. While I wasn't thrilled he didn't get all gangsta about this new sport of his, I was happy that he's confident enough and familiar enough with himself to know that wrestling just wasn't his bag at all. I wish I could be that exacting sometimes.

90 Days and the dreaded Question.

2011-03-25T08:32:00.000-05:00

Wednesday of this week began the ultimate count down to ITALY! We are officially 90 days away and with that milestone so began my (cue Rocky theme song here) my battle of wit, will, and lethargy back to a rockin Mama bod. Hey I loves me a little curves here and there just like any girl, but when my oldest daughter came up behind me the other day and said "Whoa! Ma! When are you gonna hit that P90X again?"...I took the hint that I probably should never have gone off my regimen. I wasn't crushed by her comment...No, no, no...on the contrary, she was right. I hadn't been taking care of my health and it showed.

Later on that day when that same child happened to ask me if there was really a Santa Claus, I almost couldn't resist the urge to parry that same P90X "level of honesty that only a child could appreciate." But resist I did. Well, sorta.

(Me) "Aw. No. Not now, really? You are asking me this now? You're in middle school for goodness sake! You sure you want me to be the bearer of the good news here? You really want me to potentially scar you for life (more than I already have?) if what you are saying is possibly true? Really?"

(Oldest) "Well, I kinda..I mean, I think I know that he doesn't and it's ok if he doesn't because everyone in my class except my BFF and me stopped believing he exists and I was just wondering if I was being stupid."

(Me) "Oh." [Thinking hard about that P90X suggestion of hers earlier.] "Well, if you think he exists, then he does. Who's to say that he really doesn't?" [OK, for the record, I totally copped out. But she doesn't need me to crush this little dream. I had already mounted a huge campaign on her child-like view of the world and her innocence the moment I followed through with leaving her father and never looking back once. So, I think I've met my quota of tragedies for her, don't you?]

(Oldest) "Well, I am in middle school. And it does seem pretty babyish. Is it ok with you if I don't believe?"

(Me) "Of course! So long as it's ok with you that I still believe, even if just a little. We can be allies. You can help me now a little bit more with Christmas. It will be great!"

(Oldest) "Yeah! By the way, where did you hide all those presents?"

(Me) Well, sometimes right under your nose. Sometimes I had to get really creative and stuff them in crevices in the house. It was fun keeping it a secret. Christmas is totally fun. Keeping Santa's spirit alive is totally fun and it's worth it when I her you kids talk about him and how the "toy making process works"..Like that time right after Eamonn started to read. Remember? He flipped over a toy "Santa" had gotten him and saw the label that said "Made in China" and he got all indignant and yelled out "Mom! Did you know Santa has Chinese Elves?!!!! How does he have Chinese Elves??!!!!! He has a factory in China?!!!! - (Me) "Um, (all sarcastic) yeahhhh...pfft, what major manufacturer of toys doesn't?!"

Now that was funny right there I don't care who you are.

(Oldest) Yeah. Good times.

(Me) Yeah. Good times.

The New World...Fat Paulie style.

2011-02-24T09:05:00.001-05:00

Ok, so what have we discovered since adopting Fat Paulie?

1) Fat Paulie cannot "hold it" beyond 10 hours. Poor guy. Wait a minute, more like, poor me! I was the one who discovered this unfortunate fact when we got home last night.

2) Fat Paulie is cunning. He avoids those things which he knows are prohibited under watchful eyes (like being up on couches and beds). Yet throws all caution to the wind when left alone and makes himself way, way, way at home when we are gone.

3) All chicken and grain products wreck havoc on his little body.

4) FP is a candy junkie...One ounce of the fruit of the forbidden fun dip package and its hello rabid dog. He loves candy and has been known to ferret it out of the kids backpacks if left unattended...More like, tear into and through anything that harbors said candy.

5) He is a master gasser. Room clearing capabilities: .05 seconds.

6) Carpet butt sledding is not just a hobby of his..he apparently invented the sport.

7) Obedience skills? So long as he feelin it. And he's feelin it 90% of the time, it's that other 10% when he's so obviously off the grid that gets a little hair raising.

I think he's adjusting....

2011-02-15T10:00:00.000-05:00

So by way of update, Fat Paulie did not actually hop a flight back to NY with my folks after Christmas...the long and the short of it being that yes, the children had heard their grandmother correctly..she did want a dog. She did not, however, want THAT dog...Her tastes run more to rat beasts like Yorkshire Terriers and other little yappy rat dogs who have the emotional loyalty of a pet rock and believe that every surface in one's home is their virtual toilet. Who knew? Kids, they really suck at mind reading.

Complicating all this was the fact that I had never intended to reintroduce another animal into my home after once having two dogs and two cats. This was a predicament indeed. Between hearing their grandmother repeat constantly throughout the duration of her visit "No! I do not want THAT! dog!" to their pleas of "but we adopted him for you because you said you wanted a dog!" and my "I don't want him either", I think the kids were sufficiently worried about all this severe talk about and around Fat Paulie.

At the end of the day, the kids and I decided to keep him for ourselves. And while 2 out of the 3 children of mine are still convinced that all that initial and brutalizing rejection of him by us will result in hours and hours of dog therapy sessions, I am more confident than ever that we didn't really pick this dog...he saw us suckers coming from a mile away and picked us. He'll be fine...it was all part of his mega-plan.

And how do I feel about having another animal in the house? Honestly, when the kids are with their Dad for the week and it's just me and the farting fur ball it's not so bad. He likes everything I like with the exception of being forced to run with me when he's got gastrointestinal problems. Well, truthfully, I don't think anyone really enjoys that either but it would be a good thing for him to be able to just do our run without blowing out his ass end midway through loop. Just sayin.

So yeah, all in all I think Fat Paulie is definitely settling in. Finding his grain free, hypo/hyper-allergenic dog food has been annoying. But he looks like he's starting to dig us and trust us...The next hurdle will be getting him socialized with other dogs so he doesn't keep doing the play-fake-out-then-snapping-their-head-off thing when other dogs come into his space tryin to check out his package. He apparently doesn't like that...not so much, no.

TO BE DEVIATED.

2011-02-10T16:03:00.000-05:00

At my annual dental checkup/panoramic xray of my head and teeth, my dentist discovered that in addition to a fair amount of non-decaying teeth in my head I also harbored what looked to be a deviated septum. Had he not prefaced that discovery with the statement, "So? When DID you break your nose?" before pointing to his finding on the xray, I likely wouldn't have sought out the consult of an ENT. I've never been thrilled with my nose and the prospect of actually seeing a specialist about it doesn't make me shout from the roof tops. The fact that a previously undetected broken nose might actually be the root cause of why I can't breathe at night and snore like I've downed a bottle of scotch before bed every night had me suddenly viewing this information like the beginning of a great adventure. I was motivated to find out how someone could potentially have a broken nose and not realize it...although in my case, my nose could have had a Cadillac parallel parked in it and I wouldn't have known...It's THAT big.

But after my ENT jammed, what could only be compared to as a foot long garden snake with a headlamp attached to the front end, up my already extra large schnoz, my motivation for fact finding was quickly dispelled and instinct took over to immediately yank out the doctors tongue who was doing this to me and duct tape it to her backside. The further up the nostril cavity and down to my throat she went with this camera, the greater this need became for me to inflict grave bodily harm on this woman. When she told me to "hum" once the camera reached my vocal chords, I gripped the chair arm hard because it was all I could do to prevent myself from punching her in the throat. I was seeing stars I was in so much pain.

The moment I was able to comply with her bizarre humming requests, the exam ended and the camera was removed from my intestinal tract and placed on the tray...boogers and all. Thank God, right?! And what did we discover after all this you ask? We discovered that indeed I have not one, but two deviated septum's. We also discovered that I am completely capable of manslaughter if provoked. Neither of these things looks great on a resume but certainly always good to know in the peripheral.

Dear Yahoo

2011-02-02T16:52:00.000-05:00

Dear Yahoo,

Perhaps by now you should get to know me. I mean really know me. For you see I firmly believe that I left you with a terrible first impression when we met originally some nearly 20 years ago.  I didn't mean at our first encounter to suggest to you that, as a woman, I suddenly wanted, desired or needed to grow a bigger penis or that I was a man. But somehow I did and for that I sincerely apologize.

Perhaps you anticipated that I may need one?..considering my astonishing and previously super bad luck with men and all... Or maybe you were being all radical-like by suggesting that all women should just find a way to become mighty hermaphrodite-y's and to hell with men, who needs 'em!  But honestly, I tell you with the greatest of affection and humility, I am cool not having or trying to grow a bigger penis and please, no more epistles of spam instructing me how to find, obtain, or grow one.

I also appreciate your notifying me about all the Asian Singles Online in my area who are just so eager to speak with me, as well as your very sweet, sweet concern for my ability to monitor my credit score at any time with your 3-in-1 Credit Score recommendation.   I don't know why these three themes seem to always repeat themselves in your letters to me but rest assured this is a vast improvement from our earlier days of endless prompts to "try Viagra for free" when, as you know, I hadn't yet grown my penis. I'm glad we eventually cleared that one up.

So! Just thought I'd drop you a note to say hey and let you know that I am still female, and white, and aging, and that to date I have no penis that is growing, has been growing or will ever grow or be grown from any anatomical area of mine - not even when stem cell research is destined to be perfected.

Take care, all my best to Mother AOL. TTYS!

~K

An artist in the making.

2011-01-20T21:04:00.002-05:00

There is a bug going around that for some parents results in their child feeling nauseous and uncomfortable and lethargic...for 24 hours ONLY, then their done. For all other parents, like me, we must bear witness to the exorcist version of this same virus and spend the following 24 waking hours scraping what looks like an Jackson Pollock gallery off bathroom walls and carpeting.

I freely admit that I am not the type of Mom that scoops my child up to my bosom and showers them with "there there's" when they are hurling last night's dinner 100 mph in reverse...more like "AAHHHH Geez-us! What the hell did you EAT kid!!!!!?"

Notice? Not a hint of softness there. But I admit this because while I truly suck on the "try not to throw your child into the tub and hose them down at 1 a.m. when all they really need is some good ole fashion barfing and a change of pj's", I shine, shine, shine! in the non-Tiger Mom hymnal of acknowledging greatness in my child's every feat, as in, "look what your gastrointestinal tract just created! That's money right there baby! See? See on this corner half of the toilet seat?...I believe what you're trying to express here is your love of the earth and your simultaneous rivaling anger at Communism. YOU. ARE. OUTSTANDING. KID! Way to go! Love the expression here. LOVE IT!"

And then of course, this is just cause for celebration with Wine! Glorious, Wine! because we are suddenly faced with pulling double duty...On the one hand, we must celebrate the works of a prodigy while on the other we must effectively and immediately numb and maim the bacteria we've just been exposed to and likely will not avoid if a modicum of alcohol is not used to intervene.

For such occasions I recommend a good BV Chardonnay. It's unpretentious, less oakey, and pairs rather well with the eradication of stomach contents projectiled by your children onto your bathroom walls. For more hints like these, please visit me at: http://www.killmenowbecausethisisthesecondoutofthreekidsofminewhohascorruptedmyhouseinprojectilevomiting.com/ .

Bon appetite!

Is it possible?

2011-01-19T16:31:00.000-05:00

Planning the most awesome surprise party for me...showering me ALWAYS in Big G love and gifts....and continuing to celebrate my "four-oh" or "me.in.four.point.oh.version" bday with beautiful flowers and dinner and more Big G makes me believe that I must have saved a litter of kittens from a burning house in a former life. I am the happiest gal on the planet.
Love the Big G.

HEELLLLLOOO!

2011-01-17T22:31:00.000-05:00

You've missed me haven't you? Well, I've missed you too. The truth is, I fell into some transgentially related dimension, had my brain sucked out and replaced with complete air. I believe they call this the result of "Christmas-NewYears-SnowDays-SwimMeets-I-effin-hate-my-job-and-now-I'm-also-turning-40-and-I-can't-believe-I-have-to-return-to-work-tomorrow-after-the-greatest-birthday-celebration-evah" disease.

So vexed by the thought of returning to normalcy and solid employment and the routine of life that I half contemplated laying down in front of the plows tonight which have been salting up our streets...anything to thwart all efforts of the universe to get me back on planet earth and back behind my desk as some respectable, law abiding citizen. It's a thought.

Needs a little tweaking I suppose.

New Years Eve 2010 - Times Square!

2011-01-04T22:47:00.000-05:00

Ok....G rocked us out AGAIN with his mega-god-like status by having NYE in Times Square....this was the photo taken as we were escorted across 43rd and 7th on our way to dinner at Bond 45. Total rock star status...We were all stunned that we were walking right under the ball AND! with a police escort ta-boot. G is an amazing human being and just incredibly crazy wonderful...my Lord, in all my years living on Long Island, not once had I done this. Big G just does everything up right...love him.

The Brother in Blue in the photo below was our escort...He was all pumped from having just seen Kesha and New Kids on the Block perform. I think he said New Kids. I was tempted to correct him and say, you mean Old Kids on the Block? In any case, he walked us right through all the barricades with our handy dandy pass and over to 45th where dinner awaited at 9pm.

Bond 45 was completely packed and decked out with NYE deco. Close to eleven the hostesses got everyone up and dancing with the live band...I do recall a conga line of sorts through the restaurant. As 11:30 approached the staff broke out the noise makers and the fun was on baby! (Me with a horn...have no idea where that went by the end of the night.)

This shot (below) is of the ball after we finished dinner. Having our hotel key allowed us to pass one more time through security despite everything being shut down after from 11:30 on...It was on 42nd between 6th and 7th (to the side of the ball) where we stood watching and waiting for it to come down. (I think we were on 42nd between 6th and 7th here...memory is quite fuzzy on some parts). The photo doesn't really do the scene justice...it was just so incredible to see the NYE ball this close.

(Below) the ball at t-minus 2 seconds....above that ubiquitous picture of me and my ass in my favorite Calvins. Geez already....I tried to tell them, "Oye! Calvin! Enough already!"...but, ya know, what can I say?

(Below) The Ball: Touching down...12 midnight, aka: New Years Day!

Big G....love that man!

Happy New Year Everyone....love and blessings for 2011!

Close up in the key of awesome!

2010-12-23T16:43:00.000-05:00

Fat Paulie love.

2010-12-23T16:41:00.000-05:00

Ok. So he's righteously adorable, super sweet and let's everyone love on him, including E who doesn't really scratch behind the animal's ear but mushes the dog's globs of flab around like he's making pizza. This dog makes dog ownership easy peezy baby. Wish he were staying.

Fat Paulie

2010-12-22T11:18:00.000-05:00

Meet Fat Paulie.....What is he you ask? We think part beagle, part something else. Pit bull? Lab? Angel from God?

Who is he? He's Fat Paulie...dog extraordinaire.