What Not To Do On Your First Day At The Resort

There are ways to learn how to ski, then there are ways to NOT learn how to ski.  Let's go over a few basics.

1.  Don't listen to your friends on your first day of skiing.  Remember these are the same friends that provide a multitude of entertainment with several "Hey, Watch This!" moments during the course of your lifetime.

They will say, "Let's just take the lift to the top, you'll figure it out on the way down."

You will then provide a hilarious moment for them as they say, "Hey watch this" and push you down the mountain.


2.  Be careful of borrowed ski gear.  Know your options.  Sometimes it is better to just pay the nominal rental fee for your gear than showing up at the slopes in the 1980's fartbag onezie with skis close to 6 feet long for your 5 foot frame. Rule of thumb, if it doesn't fit, the ground you'll hit.  Prepare for a day of fun with the right gear.

3.  Find your bearings at the resort.  Your friends will try again to trick you.  "Oh this is the lift you need to get on, this one here."  If you are asking the attendant if you need to put your skis on before riding the lift then you shouldn't be on any lift at the resort.  You should be in a lesson.  Of course, always know exactly where the necessities are - the bar, the restroom and food.

4.  Contracting a lesson is worth it.  Having a professional teach you that "pizza" and "french fries" are not fast food terms starts your slope side day on the right foot (or with both feet doing what they are supposed to do, not doing something that ends with a "Get Out of my way!"), remember learning how to stop does have its benefits.  You can then watch your friends who decided against that lesson screech by you with a silent scream on their lips before spectacularly wiping out.  Sidetone:  Getting lesson is best for everyone in your party.  Those who know how to ski get an hour of fun, and when you meet up with them you know what you are doing.

5.  There is no "One more run."  This translates into the "Hey watch this" type moment.  If your legs are tired, it is time to call it a day.  Be careful of the friends that want to end a day on the snow with "Let's race down the black diamond and see who hits the bottom first."  Did you notice your friend used the term "hits?"  There is a reason.

6.  Apres Ski is always better with friends.  Not just the friends you brought with you, but the new friends you'll meet at the bar.  Everything's easier when there's a beer in hand.  Just make sure you hand someone your skis and tell them NOT to give them back to you.

There is a right way for a day on the snow and there is your friend's way.  Remember, sometimes it is better to be a leader than a follower when it comes to learning something new.  You'll thank yourself as you are picking up your friends from the ER.

What would you add?

I think Elf on The Shelf is a Terrorist

Did you know that the Elf on the Shelf was the first Christmas Terrorist? Oh yeah, this creepy little guy is designed to keep kids GOOD during the holiday season (as if that could happen.)  What a great ruse to come into your household!

In case you are wondering, here's a list helping spot potential terrorists:

How to spot a terrorist

Number 1 - "Surveillance. Often a terrorist will gather information about a potential target during the planning stages of an attack."
The Elf appears in your home.  His job is to gather information about a potential target (you).    Don't you wonder what type of information he is reporting, and really, do we all really know who "Santa" is?  This "Santa" has been training Elves for years, what has he been teaching them?

Number 2 - Elicitation. Elicitation is the use of ordinary communications methods in order to gain information without being obvious about it.  Does anyone think it is creepy that the elf sits there gaining information by ordinary conversation, or "eavesdropping?"  

Number 3 - Tests of Security. Individuals or organizations planning terrorism will attempt to measure the capabilities of security apparatus.  He comes into your house, doesn't that test your security?  How does he get through all of our satellite security, across our borders and appear in your home?  He's been testing security for years!


Number 4 - Fundraising. In order to fund an attack, terrorists will seek financial resources.  I have noticed that when the Elf is in the house sometimes my wallet goes missing.  How do you think he afforded the Lego set he left for my son?

Number 5 - Acquiring supplies. Purchasing or stealing explosives, weapons, ammunition, or bomb-making materials is a sign of terrorists acquiring supplies.  For some reason the Elf appears and all the candy in the house starts disappearing.  Coincidence?  I think not!

Number 6 - Impersonation. Watch out for people who seem out of place.  An elf?  Dressed in red pajamas?  Sitting on your fireplace mantle?  Staring at you?  Could the Elf be part of some "sleeper" cell?

Number 7 - Rehearsal. Terrorists will often rehearse a pending attack ensuring that their operation will run smoothly.  That's why he appears year after year at our house, he's rehearsing for the big thing.

Number 8 - Deployment. Terrorists are arranging their assets, getting into position, or are in the midst of an attack. This is your last chance to alert the authorities before it’s too late.

This is why I am warning you.  Watch that creepy little fella, there's something fishy about him, especially when he has fooled the CIA in his cuteness so they are not watching his whereabouts during the Christmas season.  We know he is not from this country because of the Made In China sticker on his butt.

Dang, that little sucker moved last night and now I can't find him.

WTF - Christmas Shopping Edition Part 2

Yep, December 5th and already I was receiving Christmas cards in the mail.

Who are these people?

Did they take their family pictures in July?  Because it takes us a few days, several bottles of bourbon and duct tape to get my kids to sit perfectly for the camera.

Are these the same people now boasting on Facebook?

Look I have my Christmas tree up.  Look I've even wrapped all my Christmas presents and strategically placed them under the perfect tree we put up as a family, sipping hot chocolate while listening to Christmas Carols together.  Without any fighting.

I explain to everyone listening that I cannot start Christmas shopping until the very last minutes because I have Gift Giving Syndrome.  This is an illness that manifests itself during the holidays as an uncontrollable urge to give away presents before the holiday.  Why?  Because I know they will LOVE my creative ideas and I can't wait until Christmas day.

Me?  I start a little slower.

I start the Christmas music after Thanksgiving, hoping this will get me into the mood.

I look at each family member, wondering, "What should I get them for Christmas?"

Then that quickly translates into, "Why should I get them something for Christmas?

Wouldn't the holiday of spreading good cheer be just that?  Spreading good cheer?

But I succumb to all of the Norelco sledding Santa adds and coincidently my bank account shows a positive balance and I go shopping.

Few things to keep in mind if you are like me and enjoy the last minute shopping.

1.  If you are shopping for your significant other on Amazon make sure their email is not the confirmation email.  Yep, gifting fail right there.

2.  Kids can smell wrapping paper.  If you want to keep your presents hidden, wrap in grocery store bags.  This will save you money.

3.  Shopping is always easier if you buy something for yourself in the process.  This makes going out shopping much easier.

Remember that Christmas Cheer starts at home.  Preferably the egg nog kind of cheer.  Chug a little of that before you go shopping and you'll be surprised at how quickly you are done, and how surprised you are Christmas day at your ingenuity when under the influence and present selection.  There's nothing like everyone, including you, being surprised as they open their presents.

So take that all you, my house is completely done, parents spreading the Christmas spirit.

If you are done, then there's plenty of time for you to come over and do my house.

Got it?  Spread a little more holiday cheer.

WTF - Christmas Shopping or Getting My Tinsel in a Tangle

Yes, it always starts with those warm and fuzzier.  I see myself skipping through the mall with a smile on my face as I hear beautiful Christmas music.  I stop to get a cup of coffee, check the list I made, then plan my relaxing day.

Right?

Wrong.

It starts with the 15 minute ride in the parking lot looking for a space.  You see I don't want to be too far away because I'll be carrying all that shit when I come back out, but I don't have the patience circling like a shark for an hour looking for something close.

The rain starts as I throw my car into park.  Yeah, the rain.

I grab my backpack, throw it over my head and run through the rain into the side door of the mall, thinking a cup of coffee would be nice.

I'm thinking my husband would look
better in this sweater.

As did the rest of humanity and the line at the coffee shop is pretty stiff competition to the Santa Claus line, complete with the child behind me whining about why they have to wait SO LONG.

Sidenote:  I do not miss the Santa Claus/Easter Bunny lines.  Especially with a screaming baby and a toddler that wants to touch everything they see, especially pulling at the beautiful red velvet ropes and pulling down the Disney style waiting line.

But I do get my cup of coffee, take a deep breath and relax.  To the list.

Which I forgot.

At home.

I could just wing it, but that can prove very expensive because when I wing it, I buy things that are not on the list then have to buy things on my list.  Wait a minute, did my kids hide the list for just this reason?  To increase their booty this year?

I stand with my coffee, listening to the children cry in the Santa Claus line, the Christmas music skipping on the speakers.

"This cannot be a wasted trip to the mall."

The 30 minute drive.
The 20 minutes of parking space.
I have a cup of coffee.
What shall I do?

I know!

I'll just buy something for me!

Let the joys of the season begin!

Who doesn't love winter weather!

There's a few reasons why I love the snow so much.  Here's my list:

11.  Everyone's snowman looks pathetic.

10.  Snow covers up all the yard work you were supposed to get to all the other seasons of the year.

9.  My nipples really do look much better in colder weather.

8.  Snow clothes make everyone look fat, even the skinny b*tches.

7.  My children will actually go outside to play when it snows.

6.  Driving in the snow is fun, even if you are sliding out of control toward that wall.

5.  Skiing and drinking go together.

4.  You can always convince one kid to test the cold weather/flagpole theory.  Usually it is the same one every year.

3.  Running doesn't seem as bad when running through the snow, until you have that heart attack in the driveway.

2.  You can find your way back home by following your footsteps.

1.  Covering up let's me do the "No shave November" thing for winter.

Why do you love snow?

Hello, I'm Kelly's Belly Fat, nice to meet you.

We all have that middle age moment.  Where you wake up one morning, look down and wonder:

"Since when do I look six months pregnant and the only option of that being true is the immaculate conception?"

Hello Belly Fat, you snuck up on me.  Didn't see you coming.

So I go and start researching how to get rid of it.  My first article was quite interesting:  Here it is.http://www.healthyfoodhouse.com/there-are-4-types-of-bellies-what-is-yours-and-how-to-get-rid-of-it/

The article has this picture to start it:

I didn't get much further.

The only one who looks happy doesn't have belly fat but can you see how large her butt is?

And the other three, well, I can't even go there.

Number one is happy if not thinking of running more to get the butt off.

Number two is thinking "OK atleast I only look 3 months pregnant not like 4 and 5."

4 is looking at 5 thinking, "Who picked out this completely unflattering outfit for us?"

If you travel past the picture, and I know it is difficult.  The article describes one was of getting rid of belly fat was to eat a lot of "sole food."

Correct me, but isn't sole, I mean soul food full of fat?

Or did they mean that we should just eat shoe leather or "sole food" because that will keep the weight off.

Another option is to "stop fast food and enter huge amounts of caffeine."

I think what the author was trying to say is the quickest way to get rid of this fat is "Red Bull and Slimfast.  Your heart will be racing as you hang out on the toilet, but boy, it will drop quickly."

Honestly, I think all the women in the picture have that "WTF" look on their faces because they don't understand any of the article.  I get it, not a single thing made sense.  And I'm not a grammar nazi, but wow, this one really needed some help.

If you want more information on how to get rid of your belly fat, don't forget to surf by and read the comments, which will make you belly laugh - and hey, that could move out some of the fat.

Me?  I'm going to go searching again, because we all need something to laugh at!

Snowy Day in November

I am one of those crazy runners, no matter what the weather (for the most part) I'm still out there getting my miles in.  Today was no exception because it was snowing.  I wasn't missing this one, I was going for my run.  I love running in the snow, from Lake effect living in Cleveland, to Nor'easters living in Swampscott Mass to the OH MY GOD we got 1 inch of Winston Salem, NC.  On Beech Mountain the snow started at midnight, I just sat at the window watching the fat, wet, flakes come down.

I waited until the temperature got closer to above freezing, then put on my layers and made it out into the snow.  There is nothing like it.

Everything is quieter when running in the snow.  Even your footsteps are muffled.
Everything looks cleaner when covered in white, today the snow clung to all the branches of the trees making them look like tall snowmen.
There is a peace in running outside your element, in changing your gate because you are slipping a little bit, and pulling off the gator taking a deep breath of the cold, moist air.

I found gratitude in this run because as my feet hit the trail, I thought of those who could not run.  I thought of a few Thanksgivings back when I wondered why my mother couldn't keep up on our "walks" like she used to, both of us trudging through the snow.  She had surgery two weeks later finding out there was a brain tumor, so yes, her gate had changed, she was dragging a foot.  I remember talking during that walk, about nothing in particular, but the snow made our conversation sound like the only thing on that street, muffling out all the normal noises so we just heard each other.    We walked the morning before the busy Thanksgiving holiday, enjoying the quiet, the solitude of doing what everyone else in the house thought was crazy.

As I started up my hill, I thought about how thankful I am for my health.  That I can get out in the craziest of weather and still exercise and love it.  That I may be getting older and much of my times are getting slower, but I am moving to the point of just getting out there means I won.

My thoughtful gratitude was interrupted when a pickup truck slowed down and stopped next to me as I was climbing the hill.

"Are you all right?"  A little old man asked from the pickup truck.
I look at him, "Yes, I'm just running."

And it occurred to me that either I was:
A.  Crazy for running out in this weather, or
B.  I really did look that bad running up that hill.

My Childhood - Darwin at Work

When I was a kid, and no, we didn't walk 28 miles in the snow both ways up hill to school.  We were much more creative than that on ways we could die.  It is amazing that some of us lived into adulthood, and actually procreated - guess some of us are outwitting Darwin.

Truth or Dare.  This was not the sweet game you see on TV where the girls ask you if you kissed Johnny Angel or not.  Our truth or dare usually involved some type of life threatening issue - mixing concoctions from the spice cabinet and making the younger siblings drink it.  "Some on it only has ketchup, hot sauce, pepper, mustard, vinegar and something I found hidden in Mommy's room called cyanide.  Drink it or YOU LOSE!"

The Slap Game.  We didn't have video games, or even videos.  We invented the "slap game" that's where one sibling would slap the other's thigh as hard as they could.  Who won?  If you didn't scream, (which didn't happen too often) then you won.  If you did scream?  Mom's angry hand came back into the back seat for the first head of hair to pull - insert little sister here.

Make Mom a Drink.  Sure I've heard, "I always have to get up and get you a glass of wine."  Well, when I was a kid, we made DRINKS.  I remember making martini once for an elderly uncle at my Dad's 50th birthday party and one relative mentioning, "Look at Dick our there.  I've never seen him play football with all the nephews."

Same stupidity gene, but we survived it.  I think that population control puts a gene in all kids to see if they are strong enough to survive it.  The gene that makes the certain things a great idea:
Riding down the tallest hill in the neighborhood on a tricycle with no breaks.
Trying to do a front flip out of the second story of a house they were building because the pile of dirt underneath looked "soft."  (Ripped both sides of my Toughskins when I landed and limped back home)

King Of The Hill.  A large rock on the hill that whomever stood on was "King."  It was everyone else job to dethrone the King by whatever means possible.  It meant throwing them off the rock, pushing, taking the burning tree limb and touching them with it to just doing what I did, while everyone else was belting it out to be king, I'd sneak over to the rock and stand on it pronouncing, "I am King!"

Survival of the Fittest.  We'd run into the peach orchard behind out back yard, take friends as far as possible, then listen for the dog chains of the Farmer's dogs.  We'd all run, the slowest, we figure, becoming dog bait.  Not sure if the dogs actually existed but it did make me a better runner later in life.

Lazy Days on the Beach.  All the parents sat in a circle on the beach on weekends, drinking highballs while we floated lazily out to sea on large tire tubes or boogie boards.  And that one time I had to be saved by the lifeguard?  Well, since they were to busy chatting with the neighbors and didn't see it, well it didn't happen.  Cute lifeguard let me walk away (wouldn't do that now.)

Long Drives and Safety.  Sure there were seat belts in the car, but what were they for.  They didn't not work for us kids as on long drives, one would lie across the floorboard, one across the seat (the one that won the luck of the draw) and one would lie across the back window.  How comfortable is that?

See with all that destruction, we all survived.  Sure there is a few pins in the head, and a year I don't remember clearly from falling off the bike without a helmet on, but here we are.

What are your kids doing to try out Darwin's theory that you haven't noticed?

SMH Edition - parents edition

My parents crack me up.  They have their little quirks that sometimes make me shake my head.

Current problem.

They have a little brush that they like to run across the dryer lint filter.  Are you asking what I am thinking, why do they have a brush to do it.  Is it a specific "This Is Your Dryer Lint Brush" or some idea that my father in law came up with?  Maybe seeing the brush reminds them each and every time to clean out the lint filter for the dryer.

Add another item to the laundry room and you're asking for trouble.  Of course, it has happened already.

They dropped the brush down the dryer vent.

Yep, it went clear down the vent.  To the bottom.

And you can hear it banging away every time they turn on the dryer.

Call to the sons for a rescue:

One spent half an hour with a yard stick and a broom trying to reach the little brush and get it out of the dryer vent.  "I took most of the dryer apart trying to get to it, I couldn't reach it."

No luck.

Call the other son.  The "Tool Man." And yes, he has the right tool.  He has a long "grabby" thing that he thinks will grab the brush and liberate it from the bottom of the dryer vent.

Of course my father in law now has had to wait a day for the arrival of the grabby.  During this weight everything in the house must go into the dryer, and each time he turns the dryer on we can hear a "Dammit" heard from the washing room as the banging in the dryer starts.  I am pretty sure he didn't sleep last night, worrying about the brush and how to get it out of the dryer.

This morning, they are still worrying about the brush, so we get the phone call, "What time is your brother coming with the 'tool?"  You know they got up, forgot about the brush, turned on the dryer to banging followed by a "Dammit!"

"Not sure."

"We have a doctor's appointment today."

"OK, is it for you or Dad?"

"You know, I'm not sure."

"Well, what time is it?"

"Funny, I'm not sure about that either."

So hopefully there's a completed set of doctor's appointments, and brush sitting back on the dryer by the end of the day today.

Of course, they'll start using it again to "brush" the lint off of the dryer, lying it back in the same exact place.

And we all know where the brush will end up.  Now don't we.

RIP Tiffany #PRGRUNSFORTIFFANY

Domestic Violence - get informed, get help, get support.

I am a member of the Pathetic Runners Group on Facebook.  It is a great group of ultra endurance, marathon to the I finally ran 1 mile continuously runners.  This is a fun group full of good humor, lots of great tips and camaraderie.

There was a poster in the group Tiffany, who was writing about being in an abusive relationship.  All of us encouraging her to seek help, to take the steps to leave.  With four children in the mix, things were hard for her.  She got into running as a first step for her, one of her posts mentioned that her husband was upset with her changing for a healthier lifestyle.

Her posts were funny.  They were exactly what the group was looking for - "pathetic."  She used the group for support, then posted a picture of her crossing the finish line of her first 5K.

"Well if you ever wondered what a Stevie Wonder look alike runs here it is. Pathetic. I'm obviously not the prettiest of runners but my 5K time was 33:12. Only been running for a few months."
  
This post came in September when she made her decision.
"Okay fellow pathetics. You probably remember me from the sunglasses and other crappy husband issues. I have asked him for a divorce and hoping he will move out without Incident. Tonight he told my 13 year old daughter that he was going to get a new wife with kids that were better. I need prayers that I get thru this and fir strength.

Her last post?  "Maybe that escalated rather quickly."

Now I get up this morning and find out that her husband killed her and her father, leaving four children without a mother, and a online group wondering why?

You see, to many people, online friends, though we never have met, are still just that  - friends.  We support each other, we open up about situations in our lives and through our friends AND online friends we make decisions.  There are many times when we read a post by a random person in our group, and we cry with them.  We show them there are people that support them.  It could be taking that first step out the door, or it could be a complete change of life.  Tiffany made a decision to start running, getting healthy for her children.  She then took the next step in removing an abusive spouse from her life, only to have it tragically taken from her.

The outpouring of support in this group has brought me to tears as we all go out and run a few for Tiffany, many of us never knowing her in real life but connected to her in our virtual lives.  The sound of footsteps as I run makes me think, "is someone running with me?"

So if you are thinking of going for a run, then do it for Tiffany.  We are using the hashtag #PRGRUNSFORTIFFANY and have set up a memorial fund for her poor mother, someone I may not know but has lost a husband and a daughter.  Tiffany once posted that "running helps me deal with all the stress of life" now she can run fast and free.

If you wish to donate, here's the link:  http://www.gofundme.com/hi7org

Nothing like the smell of Snomax in the morning! Can I make it through the first day.

I've been waiting all year for the sound of snow guns going off on the mountain.  You'd think I'd be excited that snow season is starting for us.

I dread it.

No really, you haven't been in my house the first day we go out on the snow.

It is hell.

All of our hats and mittens are supposed to be in the Hats and Mittens bins in the closet.  Unknown to me, the little minions got into those bins several times over the summer and they exploded into the great unknown, along with a few essentials.

Here is my first day on the snow:

Nobody can find a thing.

Since I am the only one with boobs in our household, my family figures  mine will point them to their missing equipment.  While this is happening, I am being followed by minions complaining that they only have one glove, and their facemask smells like butt.  While they are telling me this, the dear wonderful husband is following them explaining, that "all of this costs money, and if you put things back where you found them then they wouldn't be lost, right?  The facemask could smell better if you got it off the floor under your bed and kept it in the Facemask Bin."

No of this helps as I think about hiding in the pantry for ten minutes with a spiked cup of coffee.

One the human homing device finds gloves, hats, facemasks, helmets- we move into round two.

Why do my kids always have this urge to use my husband's stuff.  He puts his goggles on and finds that the lens are scratched.  Turning to oldest child he asks, what happened.
"Oh I had to use them for mountain biking, mine were too small."

Photo Courtesy of  +Brian Twitty 

What?  I got back up to the pantry closet contemplating a shot as my dear sweet husband has a full conversation with the child about how hard he works to get this stuff and someone always uses his stuff and breaks it.  I wonder, "Why in the hell after 13 years do you still touch his stuff?  Why?"

One year my dear sweet husband was convinced that someone stole his ski pants.  After using my double decker homing device while listening to the boys giving suggestions to where his pants could have gone, I find them in the bottom of a drawer.  See, told you the boobs work.

Another year, the kids decided that his ski shirts were perfect for the summer, so the first day of getting everything together I could not find a single shirt for him.  Let me tell you how much fun that is.  This year is was the search for his favorite socks, of course they were in my son's room.

We gather skis, poles, snowboards, helmets, goggles (including scratched ones), gloves, face masks, hand warmers, and all climb in the car heading over to the resort.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Mom, I forgot my ski pass at home."

The conversation as we turn around and head back to the house to get the pass consists of "I told you to check and see if you have everything," followed by, "I asked Mom to get it."

Thanks son, throw me under the bus.

Well I could add that shot of whiskey as I go back in the house to get it.

Taking Care of the Small Stuff

The hubby and I were sitting and talking about how life can throw so many things your way and how you deal with them.

"You know, I can't think of any time either one of us really fell apart?  I guess we are lucky."  He says.

"I know, I think when my parents died and all the lawsuits that came with it, that could have caused me to fall off a cliff but I didn't let that happen."

Thinking about that conversation, I think there are a few things that helped keep my sanity when things should have fallen apart.

1.  Don't let the little stuff bother you.  Seriously, if you start stressing on the little stuff, when the big boulders roll along you'll never be able to handle it.  So what if your child doesn't have his life plan in order by the time he's, say 13.  He'll figure it out.

2.  Be flexible.  Life is all about Plan B, there is always a change to everything that happens, good and bad!  You have to learn to roll with the punches, even if it means that your favorite restaurant is closed (the new one you tried was a keeper!) or when an ailing parent asks you to cook something that requires a trip to the grocery store and a revamp of your plans?  Flexibility because looking at their face when they tasted what they wanted made all the inconvenience worth it.

3.  Remember this too shall pass.  When you are sitting in the shit, be it toddlers diapers, older child's stomach virus, to elder parents diaper, this too shall pass.  And being in that moment reminds them that you love them enough to put up with their shit.

4.  Let them be a person.  Kids want to be independent, parents as they get older want to be independent.  Let them be that way.  Take care of the business that needs taken care of but let them still feel they are independent, they will thank you because you give the the biggest gift, their identity.

5.  Hold true to yourself.  Don't lose your identity to another person.  Whether it is being Mom to a family, to being a caregiver to a family member, keep your identity intact.  You need to take time to be yourself, even if that means sitting quietly in an art gallery collecting your thoughts.  If you lose yourself to the task you are there because you have to be, not because you want to be.

6.  Know that time goes by fast.  Children grow up and move away.  Adults eventually pass to the other side.  Every moment that you are with them is something to tuck away in your memory banks.  make the best of a bad situation, read the newspaper when chemo is making them sick, put them in a wheelchair and get out and get fresh air, give them space to breathe.  Let them know that you are there if they need you, but don't take over the custodial role.

7.  Compartmentalize.  This allows you to live in the moment and deal with what is front of you rather than freaking out over the big picture.  When they were babies, it was, "OK, I can handle a few nights of no sleep," nothing thinking for the next 3 months I will not sleep.  When they are older and parents are going over diagnosis, treatment plans that involve weeks, months, years look at the task at hand and do your best with that.  Eventually all these little steps in caring for children and taking care of adults become a beautiful big picture that you are proud of.

8.  Laugh.  It is the best natural stress reliever.  When my Mom and Dad were sick, we watched funny movies each night, letting things go with laughter.  When my kids were little and I was ordering a meal at an outdoor restaurant while my baby shit straight out of his diaper into my lap, I laughed and kept on ordering.  Laughter is the best medicine when dealing with medicine, laughter lets you feel human again because it is always followed with a big intake of breath - a cleanse.

So think about perspective because I do every single day.  I look at the problem then compare it with the upheavals in my life, praying as they did CPR on a child that drowned, carrying a child with a broken leg for 6 weeks, sitting with my mother as they told her she had under 4 months to live, joking with my father that it is not "keno" it is "chemo," then dealing with greed and lawyers and losing what was your parents legacy.  Sucks?  Sure it does.  Does it make me a better person, I hate to admit it but yes.  Would I do it again, oh hell to the no.  But based on the lessons learned above, I am the person you know now.  So if your problem is whether or not you make a grade or your sports team wins or the wrong college acceptance letter.  There is a reason every single thing in your life happens.

You can let situations in life get the better of you, or you can take Plan b or d or g and continue on.  Either way life is going to continue on, whether you purchased a ticket for the bus or not.  As for me?  I'm getting on and continuing down the road.

What are some of your ways for coping?

Oh That D*mn Bubble!

OK, I hate talking on the phone.  It usually goes like this.....

My phone rings, I look at it.  And sigh.
Watch it ring.
Wonder, "Do I really feel like talking to them?"
By the time I realize I don't like talking on the phone, it has gone to voicemail.
They send me a text.
I answer the text

Now to my pet peeve on texting.  Iphone, you are turning me into a crazy person.

I am obsessing about that texting bubble.  Obsessing to the point that I actually yell to my phone.

Texting to me is like talking to the person.  It is something that should be answered in a reasonable amount of time.  Most of y friends realize this, but those few that do not.

I send a text to a friend.  Asking if they want to do something.
I see the word delivered.  So I KNOW they got it.
They don't respond.

Here's my conversation with my phone, in the middle of the grocery store:

Why don't you respond?  I know you received the text.
I know you GOT IT.
Just answer the question!
Why aren't you answering?

Then there is the maddening little blue bubble:

I send a text to a friend with an Iphone.
It says delivered so I know they read it.
I wait anxiously for a reply.
My heart skips a beat when that little blue bubble pops up.
They are replying!  They are replying!

Trouble starts when I see that little bubble pop up

And nothing happens.

I watch my phone for the bubble again, my mind hits overtime.

Why are they not hitting send?
What are they typing.
Is it something mean?
Maybe I should text them again.
No, that's over texting
Oh, there's that bubble again.
WHY AREN'T YOU SENDING, I SEE YOU TYPING.

Throws phone down and starts walking away.

Beep from phone says text was received.

Go back with anticipation, then bummed it was a different friend texting.

Start the cycle all over again.

How to talk Halloween

In case anyone didn't know, we love Halloween.  But as usual, someone overbooked my schedule and we didn't get the bulk of Halloween decorations up until today.  Luckily Halloween is still tomorrow, so we're cool.  I thought I would share some of our conversation while decorating today.


We started talking costumes.  "So I'm going to put on a Ghillie suit and scare people before they get to the house."

"Honey, a Ghillie suit is supposed to hide you from an animal hunting.  I think any normal person would recognize a person there."

"Oh, then I'll just dig a big ditch and hide in there."

"You go right ahead baby."

Second child, "Mom I want to scare people but I want candy too.  What do I do?"

"You could scare everyone away from our house, then you can keep all the candy for yourself.  Your brother has braces and can't eat any of it."

*wicked smile.

Then we have the conversations about decorating.  Anyone listening in would be convinced that serial killers live in our house:

"I think the eyeballs should go in the bathroom.  No one will expect them there."

"Will people see the bones if they are scattered around the front yard?"

"I'm thinking a skull here, then the crazy skull at the top of the steps, they will never know what hit them."

"So I can hide behind this tree and try to kill them before the get to the front yard, right?"

"Does blood come out of clothes?"

"Grab them before they get the candy, that is the best way to do it."

"Do not spit blood on the little kids, OK?"

"I think brains, guts and chicken nuggets sounds great!"

"The machete works much better than the knife."

"Pull my finger."

OK, maybe the last one isn't really Halloween, but it is the first TRICK so I don't have to give him a treat.  I feel sorry for the innocent little Elsas coming to the Melang house, with all the decorations my children have set up, it will be like walking the gauntlet.  Who will be brave enough to actually make it to the candy?

How to Piss Off the Frozen Crowd - or, Let It Go!

Halloween is quickly approaching, and talking with several little girls excited about the holiday, I'm surprised how many are planning on dressing as Elsa.

You know they are coming.  No not the Walking Dead.  The Walking Elsas.

The movie Frozen playing out in your front yard.

Oh, we are going to see a lot of Elsa's.  So many that "Let it Go" may be forever etched on our mind after this year's holiday.

How do you combat the walking army of Elsa coming your way and still enjoy Halloween?  How can you keep all that candy you bought for yourself out of the hands of the little Frozen Queens?


Be creative with your trick or treaters.  Here's some ideas:

Open the door and become frozen.  Not the movie, but really Frozen.  Stand there frozen until the child gets ticked off and walks off your porch.  (More candy for you)

Answer the door saying, "Oh look it's Anna."  When they correct you say, "Oh I know, you're Ariel!"  When they get mad say, "OK, I get it you're Cinderella, she wore silver like that!"  Watch them walk off mad.  (more candy for you)

Get your own magic wand out and as you answer the door yell, "I got to you first!!"  Then slam the door.  (more candy for you)

Turn the heat up in the house to 89 degrees, open the door and say, "Sorry, can't freeze anything in here!"

Find a deer statue, spray paint it white, set it in the front yard.  Answer the door yelling, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"  If she runs away screaming then (more candy for you.)

Answer the door, holding a sword, saying, "Hi, I'm Prince Hans!"  Watch them run away.  (more candy for you)


Look at that little Elsa muttering, "My ex wife is colder than you."  Watch the parent pull the child away.  (more candy for you)

Open the door, saying, "Anna was way cooler!"  Watch her leave crying.  (More candy for you)

Learn the lyrics to the Frozen song, the real ones, "Do you want to hide a body?  Before it starts to decay?"  If she starts singing the other lyrics, run screaming back into your house.  (More candy for you)

Finally as you fight the 1,543,907th Elsa for your bowl of candy, simply scream:

"LET IT GO!"

(more candy for you)

If you are more interested in the liquid carbohydrates or candy.  Play this game:

The Frozen game.  Take a shot of ice cold vodka every time Elsa shows up at your door.  Believe me, after the 15th Elsa you will be singing Let It Go and thinking you sound pretty damn good!

Am I A Serial Killer?

Lately, the latest quiz sent over from all my bloody internet friends is determining whether or not I am serial killer.

My first thought is, hmmm, did they think, "Oh, we NEED to send Kelly this!"

And if so, why?




Sure I hold my Oreo cookies gleefully under the milk until the bubbles cease.
I do have an amazing collection of knives along with plenty of the reusable grocery bags to hide the body.  (What?  You don't collect reusable grocery bags too?)

There are a few times I've questioned whether or not I am related to Dexter, so I thought it would be a good idea to take the test.  Just to make things more complicated, my quiz is

Are you a sociopath, murder or serial killer

Oh goodness, what if I am all three.

The quiz starts with the usual questions.  Then I get hit with the hard one:  What is your favorite color?

Of course Kelly green is not listed.  Does this mean I am a serial killer?  Why is green not listed, did Hitler love the color green?  Or Gacy?  I have to choose something else, what if choosing red makes me a serial killer and yellow only a sociopath?  I'm going to choose Other.

What did I have for breakfast?  Granola, of course.  Why is one of the choices dog or cat food?  Is that the food of serial killers?

If your best friend shows up at your door panicking with a dead body what do you do?  Of course, I'd want to see who it was (did I know them) then I'd grab my trusty shovel and Wellingtons.  Oh wait, what about that bathtub full of lime in my basement?

More trick questions.  How many times did you watch American Psycho?  Once of course, there was much more information on how to hide a body on Criminal Minds than American Psycho.

How would you off someone?  I was surprised this question had the answer of bomb but not poison.  We must think about logistics here.

Do you believe in God?  Well of course I do but they are trying to throw me off with the answer of I believe in whiskey.  Which is true but only serial killers would get distracted like that, not me.

Finally, the proverbial question:  Why did the chicken cross the road?  My only answer, I like roast chicken.

As it ticked my results, I wondered what amount of therapy would I need if I truly am a serial killer.  When would I go for my first kill?

Whew!!

I am only 2% serial killer.

I am 60% boring, average person.
21% Murderer
and finally, only 7% Maniac

So, if I invite you to dinner, don't panic.  There's only a 30% chance I'm putting the rat poison in the chili, because I really want to see how that bathtub full of lime will work.

Are you worried you are a sociopath, murderer or serial killer?

Click http://www.gotoquiz.com/am_i_a_sociopath_serial_killer_or_murderer

PS.  This test had a disclaimer for Mothers, it fully understands that the urge to kill our children at certain times is completely normal and does make us a serial killer, sociopath or murderer.

WTF - Ebola and The Doctor's Office

So I have a sinus infection.  I know I have a sinus infection.  I wish I could just call CVS and say,

"I have a sinus infection.  I'm coming in to pickup antibiotics."

But no, you have to go to the doctor.  You must pay your $35 co-pay, wait 45 minutes for them to look up your nose and say, "Wow, you have a sinus infection."

It was different today when I went to the Urgent Clinic.  We are now in the age of Ebola.

Everyone in the waiting room looked up at me as I walked through the door, I know what they were doing.

They were gauging whether or not I have Ebola.  They were checking me out to see if I looked like I had a fever, or I was projectile vomiting with diarrhea.

Their staring makes me stop at the door, "I have a sinus infection," I mouth out loud to assuage everyone's fear.  I wonder if I should tell them I took the "Do you have Ebola" test online and was thrilled when it said I did not have ebola.

Sitting down, you'd think we're all playing a big guessing game, "Who's the sick person here."  Not me, I just have a sinus infection.  They seem on edge, that's when I notice the poor dude in the corner wearing a mask.

Why does he have the mask on?
Does he have ebola?

I sit and fill out paperwork, if I have any pooping problems, how many glasses of wine I drink (I was referring to the week I was sick) if I am on any ongoing medication (does wine count?)  I wish I could just write, "I HAVE A SINUS INFECTION!"  All over the paperwork. I feel the sneeze and cough coming, immediately grabbing a tissue.

You think I'd just infected everyone with ebola, the horror on their faces.  I look around pointing to my nose, mouthing, "Sinus Infection.  I only have a sinus infection."

Two ladies, after giving me a disgusted look, grab some hand sanitizer (like that will help from ebola.)


I sit and wait with my raging headache, my puffy sinuses, Kleenex in hand.

Until the next person walks into the office.

Just like everyone else, I look up and stare at him.

He doesn't look like he's been from Africa.
He doesn't have a mask on.
I wonder what's wrong with him.
Could he have ebola?

How To Survive PMS

Premenstrual System.  There I said it.  When it hits, it hits hard.  But there is a way to cope with it.

Being together for such a long period of time usually they can sense it the minute we get up.  Here's a few ways to cope with it.

Don't say a word.  Because whatever you say - YOU WILL BE WRONG!  Even if it is right, at that moment you are so very wrong.  Wrong enough to cause red hot fire to exit my mouth as I explain why.

For example, usual phrases take on deadly meaning when spoken during what should be PMS silence:
"Good morning" translates to "We've been waiting too long for you."

"I've never seen that outfit before" translates to "how can that make your ass look so big."

I am always right.  And yes, those Milano cookies do not have calories when I have PMS, so don't even raise an eyebrow as I saunter past carrying the bag, because you will be wrong!

I love my filter, meaning I say what is on my mind, and sometimes that may include listing faults - not my own but everyone else's.  Again, heed the keep your mouth shut rule, I've just lost my filter for a little bit, I'll find it shortly.

It is completely acceptable to see my crying uncontrollably because we do not have any dark chocolate in the house.  Go out and get some chocolate - winning!

Do not let me loose in the Dollar Store, the laundry detergent and dish detergent morphs to include Twinkies, Cheetos, Cheese Dip, and of course Skittles.

When I am talking about something totally irrational, don't problem solve.  Don't say a word.  Because eventually during my long discourse I will eventually solve a problem I never knew I had.

There you have it, it's easy to survive the PMS battle, your best bet:

Don't.  Say.  Anything.

We Have Gnomes in Our House

Two pesky little creatures called "Not Me" and "I don't know."

It is amazing how much trouble these little guys can get into.

They are very hungry little gnomes.  They love drinking all of the orange juice and leaving the empty container in the fridge.
  
If I get mad at them for doing this, they leave the full container in the fridge with the lid barely on so I douse myself with orange juice pulling it from the fridge.

They don't like my hardwood floors, feeling that they would look so much better with a nice covering of used candy wrappers.  Which is easy to do because they always drop them sticky side down so they won't move when my boys walk over them and cement them better to the floor.

I think they are afraid of kitchen elves, because they leave every single cabinet door wide open.  If could be to better see what's in there without the bothersome exercise of opening a cabinet door, or to protect themselves from any creative gnome trickery.

They both are raging fashionistas because no human, really.  No human.  Can try on and dump the amount of clothing sitting on my sons' bedroom floors.

I think they sleep with the Apple TV remote, because for some reason the only place I consistently find it is tucked under the cushions of the couch, after spending 15 minutes looking for it everywhere else.

I haven't caught a glimpse of them yet, still looking under each candy wrapper as I carefully peel it from the floor but no sight of them yet.

I know they are still here.

Someone left a nice big turd in the toilet.

It's a Given - the Fair Edition

I don't care where you live, there's some type of fair that comes to town once a year.  And like lemmings over the cliff, you go every year, wondering half way through creating the memory, why you do it.  Because if you ever decide to go to the fair, there's quite a few givens.



Your hands will feel sticky the minute your fair admission ticket leaves your hand.
They will feel sticky the entire time you are at the fair.
Then you will touch something (the handle of a ride, the doorknob of the restroom, the counter of the Pig Butt on a Stick vendor) and encounter something wet.
Now they are wet AND sticky.

At this moment, something on your body will itch.
Most likely eye, making you wonder about pink eye.
Or hair, making you freak about lice.
or skin making you worry about leprosy.

I think the fair sends out smoke signals when it comes to town because
there's a lot of people here I swear I never saw before
that shouldn't be wearing that whatever

they think is covering up their whatever
because it is not working.

Who are these people?
Many of them are breeding more fair goers of the future, getting them hooked on the candy apples, the cotton candy and the kettle corn.
Do they not understand that walking around the fair with a gigantic turkey leg hanging from your mouth is NOT sexy?
Honestly, there are a few that could safely enter the "Strange Freaks" show of the fair and be detained because they thought they were part of the show.
Not to mention the employees of the fair, I hope someone is doing background checks on these people because if you opened the dictionary to serial killer, a few pictures may look familiar.

So I am not sure what scared me more:
Everything you touch at the fair is sticky.
The unknown substance on the wire cage of the ride you're getting ready to get on.
The smell of sweat in another ride as the door closes and you realize you have no point of the horizon as it starts going around.
How easily a fresh made doughnut can disappear - after a pretzel, a box of popcorn, a funnel cake, two large sweet teas.
And after all that food you're still eyeing the fried Oreos, thinking, "Maybe?"
That you have to tip the restroom lady even if the surfaces in the restroom are STICKY?
And girlfriend, you're JUICY shirt, obviously two sizes too small with the jeggings is fodder for the Haunted House which was pretty lame and needed sprucing up anyway.

As we walk out of the fair, we all sigh at the new memory, move a little bit of extra fat around and grab for the hand sanitizer as we get in the car.

Ahhh, off the hook for another year.  Remember, nothing good happens at the Fair.

A Woman Marries Herself?

You can't make this stuff up!  A woman, growing frustrated at being single for 6 years decided to marry herself.

No, really, click HERE

So she can effectively tell people she is "married."

My first question with this is:

If she was frustrated with being single, does changing her status to "married" make it any easier to find a mate?  I'd think most people seeing "married' figured run do not walk to the nearest exit.

She proposed to herself on a park bench.  Was it a surprise?  Did she have to think about it?

How did shopping for the ring go?
"How do you like this one?"
"I would like a larger stone, surrounded by two smaller stones."
"OK, only for you my love, whatever you wish.
----Kay Jewelers employee shaking her head.

Did she hire a wedding planner?  When she booked the venue, how did she present the idea?

"Myself and I are excited to get married at this beautiful venue.  We decided after looking at several places, and a long discussion that this place is perfect!

She said her vows in front of 50 friends.  Did she include the "obey" part of the vows?  Or did she write two separate personal vows, one for herself and one for her other self?

Then I think about her 50 friends, receiving an invitation:
You are cordially invited to the marriage of
Kelly Melang to Kelly Melang
Ceremony at the Mirror of St, Anne's Church
Reception in the buffet room of St. Anne's Mental Ward.
Registered at Target and Target

Then of course, she kissed herself in a mirror, to cement the joyous union!  I remember doing this as a teenager, but I was practicing for the first time I was kissed.  Was this the first time she was kissed?

Oh and let's not forget the wedding night.  She lays by herself in the wedding bed thinking,

"That was it?"

Years go by.  Years of looking at the wedding album, buying herself the paper for her 10th year, saying to herself, "How many more years until the diamond?"

Then after her silver wedding anniversary, she has a mid life crisis and decides to separate herself?

Who will take the house?  The Wedding Silver?  The Miata Convertible? The children?

And how can you have "Irreconcilable Differences" with yourself?

How does that court room appearance go?  Who's the ex?

Then someone comes along and proposes, she'll explain, "Oh, I was only married once before.  But we don't have to worry about my ex.  I know her really well."

WTF - You Can't Make This UP

Here's a REAL News story.  Seriously.

The Real Deal.

Found on a popular news site.

Woman Gives Birth To A Lizard.

Click Woman Gives Birth To A Lizard

There's an angry mob looking for the poor 31 year old, and scientists are saying she had a phantom pregnancy.  They're saying that the poor lizard was just going for a walk when a woman accidentally gave birth on him and lo and behold he's got a new Momma.

But it got me thinking.

I remember when our first son was born.  Both of us getting a look at that baby for the first time and thinking, "What the....."

He could have been misinterpreted as a lizard.  He had a long chisel shaped head, goo all over him, not exactly the births I'd watched on TV where they put this beautiful clean baby on the mother who has all of her makeup on, not sweating from pushing a basketball out, in a nightie, looking at her man with total love in her eyes as she holds the youngun for the first time.

Sure we were elated with the addition to our family, but had someone not known they could have mistaken him for a little alien or even, yes, a lizard.

So before you stone that poor women, remember, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, that a mother loves her child no matter what.

A friend once said to me, looking at my baby, "You know, why is it that beautiful celebrities have such ugly babies?  Why, your child is just gorgeous!"

What?