Day 1

Lunch

workout: walk 3 miles, Jillian Michaels workout
Breakfast: 2 scrambled eggs, 2 chicken sausages
Snack: apple
Lunch: string cheese, carrot, hummus, sugar snap peas, sweet
bell pepper, sprouted wheat berry toast with almond butter and banana.  yes, that's a cookie. baby steps.
Snack: a couple of tortilla chips with hummus

Dinner: tomato soup, grilled cheese (franchese and fontina), salad and steak.

No wine.
100 oz. of water.

so far so good.


I don't know if you guys follow her on Facebook, but The Brazen Apron just started the paleo diet and she's HILARIOUS to follow on her journey. Amongst her other funny shenanigans.

see you tomorrow.

actual IM conversation I had today:

me: go get acupuncture
her: I would, but I'm afraid of needles
me: you're weaker than a sack of balls
her: you're right about that
me: start acting like a vagina. They can take a pounding and in the end, they only look mildly amused.
her: Oh.My.God.

True story.

30 day challenge.

31 years

October 15th is my birthday. I turned 32. So to recap my 31st year I'm going to put some things in bullet points because they make writing soooooo much easier. Stuff I learned, figured out or witnessed.

• Friends come and go. end of story. 
• Don't say "I'm fine" if you don't mean it. 
• Treat your kids like they're awesome. The opposite yields opposite results.
• Marry your best friend. Remember they are your best friend. 
• Fight for your children. No one else will. 
• People have to earn your respect and love. 
• Don't waste your time with people you don't like. 
• Don't eat food you don't like. 
• Exercise for your mind and soul, not your body.
• Anything is possible.
• You don't have to succeed at everything you try. And that's OK.
• Laughter always makes you feel good and never gives you a hangover.
• Wash the dishes before you go to bed. 
• Don't keep tabs on favors. 
• Take a day (or two)... forget the laundry, dishes, and dinner. Play with your children in their world. 
• Love where you live. 
• Floss your teeth.
• Take time to spend with your girlfriends.
• Love really does overcome everything. Including a broken face. 

Of all the things that I've come to better understand... Love and Laughter top the list. Be open to love. Be open to the joy and pain of love. Accept laughter. Laugh often. Make others laugh. Find the the beauty and/or humor in everything. 

The other day, I realized what the meaning of life is. No, it's not 42. It's different for every single person. For me, I want to laugh. I look for funny things,  I surround myself with funny people, I watch funny movies, I read funny books... I want to laugh. I want to laugh honestly. I want to smile and feel happy. I have a funny husband and together we have a comedic life. I love it. I love him, I love our funny/insane children. I love my funny brother, who by the way, is TEN TIMES funnier than me. 

To have a light, happy heart, to me, is the meaning of my life. I'm not an entrepreneur. I'm not a numbers person. I'm not a leader. I live my own life and put in it the things that make me happy. Because I can. Because it's my life. 

When I find that I am unhappy, it is because I have put unrealistic expectations on my life or compared myself to people I don't know. If my heart is happy, than I am happy, and my life is happy. 

Happy Birthday to me. To another year of awakening, understanding, laughter, love, friendship, forgiveness, pain, humility, contentment, aspirations and enlightenment. 

Thank you life for being a journey. A journey I am glad I have an interest in. 

This blog post was made possible by pinot noir, champagne, and viewers like you. 

Waiting room fun.

I went to get acupuncture today. I did something to my back and blah blah blah. So I'm in the waiting room and I have to fill out paperwork. The guy next to me was filling out paperwork. I kept looking over at his paper, then mine. Then his, then mine. He shifted in his seat a little bit. Obviously uncomfortable that I was looking over at his paper. Then I whispered to him "Hey... what you'd get for number three?"
It took him a few minutes to get it. But then he chuckled. Cool, he was cool.

The guy to my right noticed I was chatty. He said "so what are you in for?" A bit of an odd question. Oh well, I replied with "Schizophrenia."
He looked SHOCKED and sorry that he asked. He squirmed and stuttered an apology.
Then I said "Don't listen to her, she's here for depression."
Then of course the whole room sort of let out a collective sigh. Ice broken.

I was the last one left in the room. I saw the chairs were in a pattern. like so:

Notice anything? Yes they're fruit loops. STAY FOCUSED!

Look closely.  A pattern maybe? Yes. There is a pattern. 

These were the same colors as the chairs by the way. I wrote it down. Purple, blue, green, etc. etc. 

Now, because I'm insane, I rearranged them. 

I would not have been able to sleep tonight if I left them the other way. I don't have OCD. I swear. It just didn't feel right. Now, it does!

So that's my story of how I'm obnoxious in the waiting room. 

I pay attention, and you should too

I pay attention to politics, believe it or not. I've been watching the GOP debates, I listen to BBC, I feel passionately about topics. I really do. I'm not all up in it's face, but I'm not in the dark either.  I am also married to someone who is completely crazy about politics. OK, crazy is a terrible word to use. He's "passionate" like, burning man/L.A. fires passionate. My passion is about the size of a campfire stove. You don't see it, but it's hot, it's not big, but you can still cook on it. What was I talking about? S'mores? I love s'mores. Put peanut butter on the graham cracker before you start.... so good. Where was I? Oh camping. I love camping too. No wait, I wasn't talking about camping....

Oh that's right,  I pay attention. That's what I was saying. (you would be forced to believe otherwise at this point though) Now while I try not to (and most often succeed) discuss politics on here, I'm going to today.

People listen, if you are going to take sides on a political party- awesome. You should. Find one that suits you. Do some research. Don't pick a political party based on what your parents where affiliated with, or your ex-husband, or your best friends. If you don't know where you stand don't vote. (It's hard typing that, by the way) Educate yourself on the topics that are important to you. Don't just research the pros, look into the cons as well. Do some reading. Just don't read the news. For the love of wine DON'T WATCH THE NEWS.

Fun Fact:  American news outlets are categorized as "entertainment". The only news source that is categorized as "news" is The BBC. The BBC is the largest news company on the planet. Just throwing that out there.

"I'm outraged!"

If you feel passionately about the earth, about government, about your city, about jobs, about taxes... etc. Then DO SOMETHING. If you are angry, if you are happy, if you agree, if you disagree, SAY SOMETHING. I'm going to make it easy for you. I've included  the  links for finding your local congressman and contacting the President. Easy right? So easy. I'm sure finding your mayor is not that difficult either.

While protesting does get attention, they are not speaking with one voice. Make your own voice heard. Tell a friend to write a letter! Or email, as it were.

contact the president and/or white house
contact your local congressman
contact your governor
contact elected officials


A silent voice can not be heard.

*getting off soapbox now*

Where's my tent? I was to go camping now.

Eavesdropping

While out to breakfast with my girlfriend on Sunday I caught the most awesome eavesdropping nugget I have ever heard.

We're sitting at our table, and a 3-top is seated next to us. They were all inquiring about the location of the bathroom. Each one came back with some story to tell of their experience. Which, come on, is there anything else you would want to hear with your morning cup of Joe and pancake balls? I didn't think so. Then we heard it. My girlfriend and I looked at each other barely able to contain our laughter. It was this:

Random Lady on her experience: "Once I uncrossed my legs I knew I was in trouble"

You and me both, Lady. You and me, both.

Motherhood: a falsity

This was a different time.
Get that through your head. 

*DISCLAIMER*
This is a soapbox blog post. I'm sorry that it is going to come off as finger wagging. It's just something that's been bothering me. 


We need to change our thinking about motherhood. I'm being serious. We are way too hard on ourselves. I've been doing some thinking lately, and I've been doing some observing, and I think we're going about this all wrong. Many mothers feel like they are terrible mothers. They're not as good as so-and-so. Their kids are not as nicely groomed as so-and-so's kids. We are always comparing ourselves to other moms that we think are better than us. Which is weird. Why would we compare ourselves to people we don't know? We're all different. We all have different parenting styles. We all have different lives.

I volunteer in my kids classes every week. At first I thought it was this obnoxious chore that I had to do. Now I really, REALLY enjoy it. I love seeing the kids that don't match. Or seeing a little girl who is wearing an outfit that you KNOW she fought for. Her favorite dress that she wants to wear EVERY day even though it's ripped, has holes, and doesn't fit properly. Mom gave in. That's cool.  I love seeing the little girls whose hair hasn't been brushed. I love seeing a ponytail that was thrown up haphazardly. I love seeing what they have in their lunch boxes. I've seen Lunchables in lunch bags. I've seen bags of chips, I've seen lunches with no fruit. I love seeing all these things because there is no such thing as a perfect mom. There isn't.

Even if you were able to glimpse into the life of someone you thought was a perfect mom, your assessment would be wrong. It would be wrong because you can't discover that much in just a glimpse. People have good days, and they have bad days.

We're all in this together. 

Another myth: Judgey moms. You can't know that someone is judging you. You're at the grocery store and another mom says something to you in passing. You're thinking she's judging you. Maybe she's just trying to reach out to another mom because she's been cooped up with kids all damn day too. Yes people say stupid shit. That's a fact. But judging you? How the hell would you know that?

Myth: Pearl Clutchers. Where did this come from? Who are these "so called" pearl clutchers? Women who are dressed nice? Look, I already told you, you have no way of knowing if people are judging you. Who cares how they look! So now you're judging someone you think is judging you? Yeah that makes sense.

Myth: Domestic Enemies. They are not. They are just people that don't know any better. People asking you about adoption in front of your kid. I've made this mistake, unbeknownst to me. I was just curious because my husband and I looked into adoption for a very long time. I had questions. Sorry that asking you about how you acquired your daughter was a no-no. If you're not in someone's shoes than there are things that are not obvious to you. That's life.

Generally speaking I don't think people ever try to be mean on purpose. Or rude. We think we know people so we have expectations. You don't know people, you don't know what's going on in their life, you don't know. You wouldn't be on a jury and have to make a verdict without anyone pleading a case or providing evidence would you? So don't come up with a verdict on people you don't know.

If there is such thing as a perfect mom.
This would be it.

I'm a jokester. Or an asshole.

I can never decide which it is. Either way, I'm having fun. Today I had my annual woman exam. A day I look forward to all year. I look forward to it as much as Halloween. Today I showed up to my appt wearing these:

My doctor said "nice socks"

I said "Well you know, presentation is everything"

It also gets pretty chilly in those stirrups. 

Next time I go I want to throw on some glitter down there. That doctor will have glitter on her for the WHOLE DAY. It'll be on the floor. They'll be tracking it through the office. Patients will come in thinking "Did they have a party in here? Is it someone's birthday?"

Or maybe I'll put some red lipstick on down there. When the doctor looks puzzled I'll just say "Look, I don't expect YOU to understand my forward thinking when it comes to fashion and style. Vagazzle? SOOOOOO last year. I'm a classy lady. I prefer my lips have Loreal's "Seduction" red lipstick, not cheap rhinestones"

Maybe I'll get some fantastic henna tattoo on the insides of my thighs. Like, a picture of a hand reaching up my thigh. Then say "Hurry up doc he's going to beat you!"

Or I'll just put a biohazard sticker on my hoo-hah. The doctor will have to take it off and then I can say "OK, but you were warned"

How about a new year's popper. When the doc ducks under the drape, release the popper. (I sound like Liam Neeson in "Clash of the Titans". RELEASE THE KRACKEN POPPER!) Tell the doctor that he's your vagina's 1 millionth customer and would he like to claim his prize?

I know I did a blog post similar to this before. But honestly I'm too lazy to go back and search for it. It was something about how gynos should also include waxing in their list of services they provide and how awesome that insurance would cover it. 

Anyway. It's all over now, and I'll have to wait until next year for my next gynecological exam costume. 

I wonder if my doctor gets irritated that at the end of the exam I say "Are you going to call me?"

Once again I woke up curled in the bottom of my empty pool

Denise Rose

 Once again I woke up curled up in the bottom of my empty pool, but at least this time I still had my clothes on.

I saw many faces looking down at me. I heard "ma'am? Ma'am can you hear me?"
It was a paramedic.
"Ma'am, don't you think you're too old to be skateboarding?"
"I do now"
They put a neck brace on my neck and strapped me to a board. Next thing I knew we
were speeding down the street. I could hear the sirens, and I could feel the oxygen tubes in my nose.

Long story short I was fine. Nothing broken except my ego. Mild concussion but that was as serious as it got. Well if you consider amnesia as "not serious" than yeah it was no big deal. I mean, I don't remember who I am. Apparently I'm a mom and have 4 kids and some sloppy husband and I live in a pig stye. I think I've seen this in a movie before. Except there are photos of me all over the house. Horrible photos! Man what is with the blonde hair?

Well, if this is the new life I've been given fine, but I'm going to make a few changes around here. First of the blonde HAS.GOT.TO.GO. Can you say "fried" ends? yuck. A new haircut is definitely in order. and clothes. My God, these clothes are atrocious. How many pairs of yoga pants does one woman need? And when was the last time she bought herself a pair of panties??? This is ridiculous.

So after a few weeks, some new threads, newly acquired credit card debt I was feeling pretty good about my new self. Then this strange thing happened. I started to get little glimpses, little memories from my former self. Every night I would have these really vivid dreams and it felt so familiar. Like deja-vu. Only in reverse. Then one morning I woke up
and I was my old self again! I remembered who I was! I was a mom! A mom to four
awesome boys and a man that I adored! I was so excited I jumped out of bed to share the good news. I caught a glimpse of my reflection.

And promptly fainted.

She never should have left before checking for a pulse.

First sentence provided by: Michelle Jennings Johnston

She never should have left before checking for a pulse; what the hell had she been thinking?


HE did this. She was sure of it.  It looked like a robbery. A very messy robbery. The trash had been knocked over, the drawers opened,  papers thrown about. The smell... that was the worst part. The overwhelming stench. It reeked of death and decay. She noticed the 6 day old chicken carcass she had thrown away only yesterday on the floor. Something happened here. Something awful. Something suspicious. Something smelly.

She thought the opossum was dead when she left this morning. She even poked him with a stick. She was sure of it! Now, now look what he did! He destroyed her kitchen! Blast that doggy door! She didn't even have a dog. She had a cat. Where was the cat?! How could the cat allow this to happen?

Who should she call? The police? Animal control? Pest control? Where was this little beast anyway? Was he still in the house? Oh my God. What if he was still in the house? The phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. The phone call was coming from in the house. She answered it with a shaky voice.
"Helll.....hello?"
"squeak. squeak. squeak"
She hung up. Her heart was racing and her breathing was heavy. The nearest exit was the front door, but she would have to pass the hall and the go through the living room if she wanted to escape.

She mustered up all all her courage and bolted for the door. She passed the hall where out of the corner of her eye she saw something stir. She kept running. Finally she made it to the front door but it was locked. Why did she deadbolt it?? Her shaking hands fumbled with the lock. She heard something behind her. She turned and pressed her back up against the door. There he was was. His beady eyes seem to penetrate through her soul. She yelled at it and threw her arms in the arm
"what do you want from me?!?!?!?!"
Then the creature fell over, feet in the air. She didn't check for a pulse. She got out of her house and called the police. She would see her house before she went back in there.
Shit. Her laptop was in there. How was she going to update her Facebook status about this without it?