Dive Bar Etiquette

Anyone working in Baltimore in the 80's remembers Club Hippo, a popular Mount Vernon Gay/Lesbian Bar.  The Hippo was a staple in the Mount Vernon Area, with several bars around it drawing a pretty good crowd on a Thursday night.  I came across this story, hate to see such a legend go.  Especially when the owner is 70 years old and working in the bar for 35 years (that's dedication.)

Here's the link for all you Hippo lovers.  Goodbye Hippo

My favorite Hippo memory started at a different bar.  Jeff and I were hanging with friends and we ran out of cigarettes.  (yes, I smoked a very long time ago, so sue me)  The machine was broken in the bar, so I yelled to Jeff that I was running across the street to a machine that worked.

"No problem."

I went over to one bar, and they had run out of the brand we wanted.  Ran over to the Hippo to use their cigarette machine.  As I was walking in the bar by myself, a friend I knew from High School was walking out by himself.

We both looked at each other.

"Um, I'm here to use the cigarette machine."  I said.

He paused.  "Oh, I was just here to use the ATM."  Then we passed each other in the doors of the bar.

We both ran into each other again later that evening, neither mentioning the Hippo.

Another favorite was the Clermont Lounge in Atlanta, GA.  This strip club, operating since 1965 probably hasn't been cleaned since 1965.  Our group would go to this bar because they served PBR, and it was dirt cheap, and there was nothing like watching Blondie, the stripper crush your PBR can in between her boobs.

I was waiting in line for the bathroom, and just like the Hippo, up walks a colleague from a well known business in Atlanta, who knew me as their Microsoft Visual Basic Trainer, suits and computers - Oh my!.

We look at each other.  I smile and say, "I'm here for the cheap PBR's."
He looks back at the elderly stripper as she crushes another can between her boobs replying, "Oh yeah, me too."

Have you ever been caught in a Dive Bar?  You'll never meet interesting people in just regular bars (Chili's, Bennigans, Waffle House), people that will give you insight on how to crush beer cans between your boobs, then look at your boobs,

saying, "Well, don't quit your day job honey."  At least now after a gazillion years later and two kids, I may just try.  Remember, if you hit a Dive Bar,  always be prepared with a great excuse when someone you don't want to see shows up in a place you're not supposed to be.

Goodbye Club Hippo, it's almost cliche,  they are tearing down the Club Hippo and Putting in a CVS.

Dear Tinder User

With a single girlfriend, she showed me her Tinder profile, just to have a little lookee around and of course, like most of the female population of the world I was blinded.

Here's a few suggestions for the Tinder users:

1.  Pictures of you with the Hooter girls.  Guess what, that doesn't work!  I know you go to Hooters because of their special "Fish Sandwich" (which I heard is the bomb) but don't let us know on Tinder.  Maybe I'll see if there are girls on there with pictures at Big Peckers (which is an actual restaurant.)

2.  Pictures with the pals - I know you want to come across as a fun guy, but the pictures of you with your pals confuses us.  Which one is Gary, age 31 of Welcome, NC?  What if I pick the wrong one then get the surprise of my life?

3.  Pictures with your Mom - I know you are presenting a "softer" side but a Momma's Boy?  Really? We, as girls, can put pictures of us with our Moms because we're showing you what we will look like in 30 years.  Hot!  You are using Tinder to find the perfect mate right?

4.  Puppies.  Puppies are used to lure strangers into cars, not girls to calling you on Tinder.  That being said,  we do say, "Aww look at those puppies" before we pass you by.

5.  Guns and Amo - Maybe this appeals to some, but holding the dead deer with the AK47 is not really a turn on.  Makes me think I may be stepping into a Criminal Minds episode.  Think, what type of female are you attracting, especially if you break up after one date (another Criminal Minds episode comes to mind.)

6.  Just your abs - OK, my first thought is that this is possible false advertising.  If he just showing his six pack bare perfect abs, then what does his face look like?

7.  Just your guns.  The gun thing was discussed above, this time I am talking about your biceps, again, I go back to the same thing, if you are not showing your face, there is a reason.  And I am not going to find out that reason!

8.  Pictures of you in your bedroom.  Especially if it is messy.

9.  Sunglasses.  I know that Dale looked cool in the shades, but on Tinder we are looking for the full package.  Is there a black eye behind those glasses, was it from the hands of your girlfriend?  Wait a minute, you have a girlfriend?  Why are you on Tinder?  Pass.

So if you need help finding your sole, I mean soul mate, I can help.  I didn't find my mate on Tinder, but he certainly is a good catch!

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 Pinterest You Did It Again - Belly Wrap Edition

So I've been reading about body wrapping and came to two very powerful conclusions.  If it helps with my muffin top it is worth it.  And, boy it is pretty expensive.

So I went to Pinterest and decided, heck, look at how easy those pictures make it.  I'll do my own belly wrap.

Easy, right?  Buy some Ace bandages, Epsom Salt, Coconut Oil and green tea.

It was easy and my first wrap was a success except.....

Note to Self:


Do not do your long run the same day as your belly wrap.

Next time you buy epsom salts, do not buy the Peppermint salts.

If you are running during wrap day, put plenty of Body Glide on your butt and do not decide to shave your hoochie Hoo.

Because the water from the salts will run to a certain place, and oh Lordy.....

Now I know what "being on fire" feels like, and I am not talking about my stellar personality, I'm talking about my nether region.

There.  You are welcome.  In a completely G rated post I was able to convey that Peppermint Epsom Salts on a chaffed ass will make it feel like it is completely on fire.

Now, I know why I took a Lamaze class over 13 years ago - to perfect the breathing when in the same type of pain as labor.

Maybe I'll just keep my extra baggage around my middle so people will not be TOO jealous that I am smart, funny, beautiful AND skinny.

WTF - Why I Don't Buy Nice Things......

I always wondered why my mother never invested in a couch for our downstairs, how our couch started fraying at the edges, smelling slightly like sweat, and eventually needed a book under it because one of the legs broke.

Now I understand.

Kids wreck things.

Specifically kids wreck YOUR things.

The amount of trashing an item is in direct proportion to how much you paid for the item.

T-shirt picked up at consignment store - they'll spill some tea on it.

Expensive blouse bought for a cocktail party - they'll accidentally squirt soy sauce on it, or better yet, they'll spill their Red dye Number 5 Tummy Yummy down the front of it before you leave for the party.

It always goes the same:

"Mom, let me use your iPod/iPhone/Computer/GPS/Garmin?"

"No, because you'll break it.

"I will not!  I swear I will be careful, I will be SUPER careful.  PLEASE!"

"No."

"Come on Mom, I need it for my homework/essay/life well being."

"OK, but please, please be careful."

Child gets the item, then will usually do something like:

"I don't know what happened, it just dropped."

Me, "What did you press?"  Them, "Nothing I swear."  Me, "Why is everything resetting?"

me, "What happened to my iPod/iPhone/Computer?"  Them, looking at me stupidly.

I think all adults should be tased when they think about giving their child  their expensive item - because we fall for it.  Every.  Single.  Time.  .

Here's why we do not buy expensive stuff:

Kids will spill their Blue Icees in your brand new car with the tan interior.
Kids will pull your Beats headphones out by the cord until it tears.
Kids will wear your expensive running shoes then end up playing in a creek.
Kids will keep pressing buttons on your electronics until they don't work.
Kids will stuff their mouth full of goldfish and then sneeze in the backseat of your car.
Kids are holding the cabinet door, "I don't know how it came off the hinges."

So that couch stayed in the basement until we all were gone to college.  That couch held a lot of secrets from my teenage years, some consisting of throw up and others well, never mind.  My mother was smart as I watch my son dump his red Kool Aid onto my new leather couch.

What did you say?

Just to help you out.  Here are how some comments in my home are tranlated by my Mom Brain.

Significant Other - "Good Morning Sweetie."

Translation - "Why are you standing there eating that Krispy Kreme doughnut, don't you know it goes straight to your waist?"

Child - "What's in my lunch box?"

Translation - did you give me something good or ANOTHER peanut and butter jelly sandwich?

Child - "Why do I have to go to bed now?"

Translation - "I really want to be a jackass in the morning and going to bed early is foiling my evil plan."

BFF - "Would you like a taste?"

Translation - "I know you hate what you ordered for lunch, but you cannot finish off mine."

BFF - "I'm not sure about that one."

Translation - "Those white leggings look like sausage casings on your ass, actually, they may be cutting off the circulation to your cankles.  And believe me the looks you would get wearing that?  You'll thank me for giving you advice."

ME - "I was up all night reading my book."

Translation - "OK, I ending up in a marathon on Criminal Minds, but reading for fifteen minutes before going to bed cancels that brainless activity out."

ME - "You'll eat it and you'll like it."

Translation - "Sure it tastes like shit, I made it.  But someone has to eat it, AND it's is healthy."

ME - "Because I said so."

Translation - "I have no answer, and I'm pissed off.  You'd better stop now before things get ugly."

BFF - "Did you see the new tunics at Bella Nova Boutique?"

Translation - "Obviously you haven't been working on your sit ups - you're gonna need those."

It is easy when you have the translations to understand either:

a.  The look you get from your wife, mother, other.
b.  The slap from said person, or
c.  That silence when you ask "Are you OK?" and they answer, "I'm fine."

Translation - someone is sleeping in the dog house that night and it's not her.

Do you have any translations you would like to add?

The Club You Don't Want To Join

There's a club, that takes only special people and the initiation is not that great.  No one understands how it feels to lose a parent until they have lost a parent.  Recently a great friend joined the club, and I, being a member of that club remembers how it feels.

When you lose a parent it is like you disappear into death.  Those of us in the club understand.  We know you are changed forever, that you lose your last piece of childhood.  Losing a parent makes you feel adrift, like there is no anchor still telling you that everything will be all right.  That one person, that no matter what you do, will always love you.  We are left alone, our own childhood fades, turning into artifacts around the house - pictures on the bookshelf, a faded note written by hand.  We wish we could linger as a child, not having to take control, face the reality that life really does go on and others move forward.

Losing a parent makes you wish you had more time.  As you go through effects and houses, you see pieces of them you didn't know exist and it makes you sad you never got to sit down and ask those questions.  "Who's car were you sitting on in 1953 in this picture?  or "What position did you play when you played basketball for Villanova?"  The story of their life disappears, the only parts remaining are the parts you know from your time with them, that sinking realization that they did exist beyond being a parent, and now you'll never know.

If you know someone joining the club, here's a few pointers.

Let them be the child, let them tell you all about their Mommy or Daddy, because hearing the words as they say them, gives them peace.  They did actually exist, there is a history, and it will go on.

Accept that you are just an ear piece and be simply that, if you haven't joined the club what they really need is someone to listen, to understand the anger, the fear then the resulting sadness of loss.

Take the initiative and help with the task at hand.  There is nothing more daunting than facing a closet of clothes, a storage room full of boxes, even just an underwear drawer and learning how to let go - piece by piece.  Don't worry about flowers or casseroles, help with clearing out not just the home but the soul.

Losing a parent lets us feel our own mortality, the chain is broken and it cannot be fixed.  Before you join the club:

Pick them up when they fall.
Hold your tongue when they want to talk.
Provide the shoulder AND the ear when there is nothing else you can give.

What type of friend are you?  Have you joined the club?

Do you have boys? Are you prepared?

I have two boys, those that live close to me already know that from the smells that come out of my home to the noise level at all times of the day.   Those cute little minions smelling of baby powder and running around your home are going to turn into tweens then teens!  Just to prepare you, I've created a list.

They believe in the natural smell of the human body and this prompts them to take off their shoes and celebrate in any place this natural occurrence.  The shoes come off with a silent snicker until I almost crash the car when the smell hits me.  I've been know to beg them to stick their feet out the window to keep the inside of my car from melting.




If they love the smell of their feet, they love the smell of their farts even better.  My boys love to share, they will wrestle one down and sit on him while holding that beautiful odor until the perfect moment.  The screaming coming out of my home is the rapture from the younger brother at this ceremony of his older brother.

Get used to the smell the breath game.  They will come up with every way of getting out of brushing their teeth, sometimes the yellow fuzz will give it away but most times you have to smell their breath.  Make sure you are sitting down while doing this, falling down hurts.

They detest detergent, they feel that clothing washed in detergent and smelling clean is not natural.  They will hide their clothes under the bed, in the closet, even wrapped up in their blankets.  The sign of a wrinkled shirt means the ride to school is happening with the windows down - rain or shine.

Dirt is their friend - it keeps you healthy to be exposed regularly to dirt they explain.  What they track in the home is just their way to keep the family healthy.

They can multitask.  A wet moldy towel on the floor can double as a mop.  If they spill their drink during the night, they can just move the towel over the puddle and wait for it to cement to the floor.  The polish can comes up with the towel was simply not supposed to be there.

Who needs soap when you have water?  Just the process of getting wet makes them feel clean, and the loss of smell that accompanies the onset of hormones means everyone except them needs to hold their nose.

Why does the dog pee in our bedroom?  Because it smells like a toilet.   Oh and throwing the wet moldy towel over does not constitute as covering it up.

If I tell you something is going to hurt, then don't try it on your brother.  Because it will hurt.  And then it will hurt you.

So here's the list I have compiled so far, as a mother just remember a few stinky hugs are better than no hugs at all.

What would you add to this list of boys?

Sometimes Life is Crap!

Do you deal with a lot of shit in your life?  Do you have stories like these?

I am born with the Irish gene, named Crapish.  This means that whenever I walk into any type of shopping situation, I get excited and have to go to the bathroom.  Really, I'm pushing the wenches out of the way in Target to get to the stall in time.  Oh and the bookstore?  I can't go in there until 3 cups of coffee later, I've done my duty.

I also holding the lucky name of Deer in the Headlights, that's because I've been caught more times than Bambi hiding behind a tree on a morning run.  One poor lady didn't believe my, "I'm putting human scent here to scare the deer away from the hunters," the third morning in a row.


I also have Shitraction, that means that any bathroom I visit when traveling has to be the worst bathroom in the country.  I've seen plastic lawn chairs with a hole cut in the middle of them over a 5 gallon bucket in Mexico,  a hole in the floor with two "put your feet here" stones so you can squat and aim (I finally understood why every woman in Japan always has tissue on them).  One of my favorites was a statue of a nekkid man in the bathroom at a bar, with a fig leaf over his Hahoo.  Of course, when I lifted the leaf to have a peek, I did not know that a light was going off in the bar telling everyone.  The applause I received when coming out of the bathroom was knowledge enough that I'd been busted.

I've broken up with port a Johns during my running races.  The worst bathroom I've ever seen is a port a john during a marathon in Virginia Beach.  I swear someone must have opened the door to the toilet, stuck their butt in and went.  Shut the door and kept on running.  One of those, '"how did it get there," type moments. Scarred for life on that one, scarred for life.  I'd rather dive into the woods than risk seeing that again.

I have the nickname of Crapola when it comes to luck.  When I am trying to have a "private" moment to myself, that's usually when the Mom walks in with the small child who promptly wails, "Mom, it STINKS in here.  OH GOD, what is that smell."  Better yet, the only bathroom that had a working lock at an airport was the handicap stall, the problem, I found out a few minutes later was the lock worked but the toilet didn't.  Looking down and watching the wheels roll up to the stall just made a shitty situation turn worse.

My handyman calls me the Craplord rather than a Landlord, I had a tenant call and say that there was a "slight" smell in their home.  I went over to find that the main sewer pipe broke and there was 3 feet of crap in the crawl space under their home.  I asked them if they didn't "SMELL" anything?  They said a slight sulfer smell, a slight sulfer smell?  Slight?  After 400 to Forsyth Rooter to pump out the crap, then another 3K to hazmat out my handyman, crawl under there, lay down lime, plastic, lime, plastic and fix the pipe - for some reason he's not answering my calls right now.

So there you see, I've become a strong woman because I can take a lot of crap - literally and figuratively.  So don't give me any of your shit, because you don't know what I will do with it.

Best Birthday Memories

Birthdays are about making memories with your family.  Here's two that really stick out for me.

My 12th birthday, my Dad bought me a Holly Hobby Diary.  My very first diary.  I was presented with the task now of writing out my innermost secrets and thoughts and had to devise a very methodical way of hiding the diary from my brother.  I still remember jumping into my parents bed in the morning telling them, "It's my birthday."  Of course, they knew that.

Mom gave some Avon perform in a pretty sheperd girl decanter, Dad gave me the diary.

Now when I read my inner most thoughts, I laugh at the entries.

"I hate piano.  I really hate piano.  No one knows how much I hate piano," and so on for an entire page.

"I just saw my brother pick his nose.  He is the most disgusting person ever!"

and my favorite:

"I know why the girls in the 8th grade have FAT purses, it is because they have SANITARY NAPKINS in there.  I want a fat purse."  Little did I know.

My other favorite memory was sitting with my Dad on my birthday at a bar in Ocean City and he proclaims that we both need to purchase KENO (the local lottery) tickets.  So we write out our numbers, 5 of them.  Then watch the bouncing balls as they hit the screen.

"I won a dollar!"  My Dad exclaims!
"Me too!"  I look at him in surprise.

How did we pick the same numbers?  We played our birthdays and our age.  Great minds think alike!

His:  6   26   31  65
Mine:  6  29  65  31

Too bad we didn't get the 5th number - we'd be rich.

Birthday's are about being with the people you love and having a great time.  Making new memories to add to the old ones!

What's your favorite birthday memory?

What were you thinking? Boys logic

I like to think little boys minds are in the growing stage, that explains some of the logic they use for things they do.  Here's a few gems from my boys that make me scratch my head.

The reason the empty carton of orange juice goes back in the fridge is to remind you to pick up OJ.

The wet towel on the floor actually cleans some of the dirt away as you pick it up.

I like tuna fish, let's see if the dog likes it as much as I do.

If you can't find the dishes then technically they don't need to be cleaned.

I am dirtier than you because I am closer to the ground than you.

There is this magical place in our room, it is called the floor.  You drop clothes on in and the very next day they appear back in your drawer folded and smelling very nice.

If you can't smell it then it never happened.

Someone said the orange in Cheetos is real cheddar cheese.

What comes out of the dresser drawer, never goes back in the dresser drawer.

If I open a cabinet drawer, why waste the energy to close it?

If I hit my brother and you don't see it, then it was an accident.

Why can't you check my pockets before you wash the clothes?

If you didn't see the dog eat it, then I finished it just like I said I did.

Why brush my teeth if I'm just going to ruin them by eating breakfast?

Law of Attraction - if my brother has it, even if I threw it away, I want it back.

Girls?  Who needs them - all they do is break your crayons and cry all the time.

That shrug?  It means, "yeah I love you too, now don't make me hug you in public."


What other types of logic would you add?

A kid's view of money....

There are a few differences in how I view money versus how the younger generation views money:

Son, "Can I have this book/game/piece of candy/snake/bike/motorbike/snowboard?"
Me, "No, we don't have any money."
Youngest son, "Just go to the ATM and get the money."

Me, I picture how I can accomplish this if the money really is not in my account.  I picture taking my husband's Avalanche, around 330 in the morning.  Kids and hubby are asleep in bed and the truck won't be missed.  I back up to the ATM, pull out a chain, wrap it around the machine.  I throw the car into drive, hit the gas and as the machine falls over, it immediately spits out all the cash sitting in there.  I leave not a finger print, or tire print and we all live happily ever after.  But this is reality and I don't have a chain, even though I usually am awake at 330 in the morning.

"Honey, it doesn't work that way."
Son, "But it's a money machine, it gives us money."
"Honey, it gives us money out of our account.  If we don't have any money in our account there's no money to give."
Son: "But the account is in the machine."
"Yes."
Son: "And the machine gives us money."
"Yes."
Son, "Then if there is money in the machine then there is money in our account right?"

Sigh

Maybe I'll stop and buy a chain on the way home today.

When Boys Get Bored.....

It starts with the constant bang,
Something,
What is that?
Hitting the wall upstairs?

Trying to ignore it, you continue work

until
"Will you PUHHHLEASSE stop doing that?"

Voice from upstairs, "What?"

"Whatever you are doing!"

"Uh OK."  The banging continues, until you fling your reading glasses and march upstairs.

Two boys lay in bed, ball in hand.  They look over at you and then throw the ball against the wall - AGAIN.

"I asked you to stop doing that," you say.
"What?" One asks throwing the ball.
"That..." you say pointing to the ball.
"Oh, this," he holds up the ball.
You take a deep breath holding back the, "What in the hell did you think I was talking about - breathing?"  and simply grit out, "Yes, that."


Waiting a minute outside the door, making sure they actually heard you, then back downstairs hoping to concentrate.

Then more banging starts upstairs, this time elephants are moving furniture.
You hear, "STOP!"  From upstairs, and try desperately to ignore it.

You can't because it becomes a chorus of "STOP" until finally it sounds like someone's head has hit the floor.  Again, the reading glasses go down and you stop upstairs.  You fling open the door and there's your youngest lying on the floor with the older one sitting on top of him.

"Can you stop this please," you say.

They both look at you with an expression of, "What?  This?  But this is what we normally do."  The older one does not get off, you take a step toward him.  He senses something (your anger?) and gets up, the younger one gets up with a parting shot to his brother because Mom is there and this is the one time he can get away with it.

"Why don't you guys go outside," you ask.
"It's raining," they reply.
"Then find something to do," you say leaving the bedroom again.  This time much to your dismay they follow you downstairs, sitting at a computer on the couch.

"Max es un cabezazo y tira un pedo mucho," the computer says.  One starts to laugh.  The other says, "My turn."
Translation - Max is a butt head and farts a lot.

Give up now, at least nothing gets broken with Google Translate and they are actually learning Spanish.

This one is for my REAL girlfriends

If you are not a close friend, then stop reading now. I don't want to scar those that don't know me well.  This is for my close girl friends - My Plan Z.

Plan Z - definition please - if anything happens to me, and there is the possibility I MAY not make it, here's the stuff I need you to get out of my house.

There's several folders on my computer I want you to delete - Adam Levine, Fast and Furious, Yummy and Webcam photos - don't ask questions just delete them.

On my book shelf there's a book called "Poetry,"  I should have named it "Bad Poetry," because that's what it is, burn it.

The right hand drawer by my bed, take the whole thing and throw it in the neighbors trash.  That way if the can blows over in the wind, they will be look at as the derelicts not me.

Boudoir Photos - sure they were done when I actually had a body, but you know if they get on Facebook or worse put out at my wake, that cannot happen.  They are bottom bookshelf, behind the family bible.

The coconut bra - it's in my underwear drawer - you can have that one.

Finally, Make sure you make a copy of the folder blackmail pictures before Wolf or Max gets to it.  Jeff may need these to keep them in line during the highschool years or to give to the press when they become President and Vice President.

Thanks, what's your Plan Z for your girlfriends.  If life doesn't teach you anything, it screams it's short and definitely unpredictable.

There is heroin in Trader Joes

Trader Joes - this black hole masks itself as a grocery store.  Sure any sane individual can walk in and actually get groceries and walk out, but this store is designed for the other 98% of us, those that have absolutely no will power.  You start very calmly, thinking you are picking up your groceries at a great price and feeling like a great Mom because most of what you buy is organic (score)!  Then you move from only focusing on what you need to making the mistake of looking up into the spawn of temptation - the upper shelves.

Trader Joes is the only store I can walk into and justify to myself that I really do need, Salted Caramels, Dark Chocolate Peppermint Bark, Cookie Dough Butter, Red Licorice AND Dark Chocolate Almond Drizzled Biscotti.  Any normal grocery store and I'd sail right past any type of sweet and go straight for the protein bars or fresh fruit.  No, here it's like I become a crazed lunatic, wandering like a zombie down the aisles of the store, pulling things from the top shelf and carefully piling them into my shopping cart.  Add a case of wine for under 40 bucks and I've satisfied every vice in a one stop shopping, well, two stop shopping - one extra stop at Frederick's of Hollywood.

When you think you have the Trader Joe secret licked, when you think you can be strong and not buy anything you don't need - they come at you from another angle.

"Would you like a free sample of one of our products?"
"What is it?"
"English Toffee laced with Heroin and topped with Almonds,  our special recipe, a free sample."
"Why of course it is."
"Sure."

$362.54 dollars later, walking out in a case of wine and a full shopping cart, while holding a mile long register receipt, you're wondering, "How did that happen?"

Secretly, I think they pump oxygen into the store, while wafting smells of baking cookies and making fudge so resistance is futile.  I'm waiting now for the online version, when you order from the comfort of your home and go to pick up your groceries.  But wait, what if they make me walk inside to get them?  $465.72 dollars later.

Spring Forward -NOT!

Here's my Daylight Savings Time Opinions -

Getting up tomorrow morning is going to suck.

Getting my spawn up for school is going to suck even worse.

Who thought of changing the time?  Probably some Mayan and we all know how they screwed up the calendar.

Nope, it was probably someone WITHOUT kids who said,

"ooh, let's screw up everyone's morning by taking away an hour and adding it to the end of the day.  We'll confuse them while they are still tired, then sneak into their homes and steal all their money."

So, go to bed early you say, attack it that way.

Well of course not, going to bed early SOUNDS too logical so therefore both of my kids ARE NOT going to do that.

Maybe I can bribe them with a trip to Krispy Kreme if they get their act together with what will feel like the butt crack of dawn tomorrow morning.  Better than the going to bed early stuff, I say.

Are you happy Spring is right around the corner?

Lies you tell your children - WHAT?

We know we tell those little white lies we tell our children, things to make them feel better?  Here's a quick take on a few of the big ones.




You will love it, just taste one bite. - Adults create this rule because we love to see your face when we give you something disgusting.  Plus it saves us money when we need you to eat the "whatever we found in the refrigerator" casserole.  Something we wouldn't touch.

It won't hurt a bit. - We were told this by friends when it came time to give birth to you, so we're paying you back for that.  (Hold still, you're spilling the alcohol, this won't hurt a bit)

Momma knows best - this can be true because we've been at this rodeo a little longer than you've been. But it's a lie because we've already forgotten most of it due to the amount of alcohol consumed due to having children.

It will feel better - this is our catchall, "stop whining about what hurts because 1: there is nothing I can do about it and 2: I'm tired of hearing it."

You'll go blind if you.....This is the do as I say, not what I do.  And a good explanation as to why all adults need reading glasses.

This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you - because that scream soon coming out of your mouth will deafen everyone within a mile radius - even possibly from the satellite taking your picture.

If you keep making that face, it will stick that way - Have you seen your father?  Mr. Vinegar face, he started making that face when he was young and look at what happened to him.

Mommy and Daddy are taking a nap - really, we are taking a nap.  Ya'll wear us out.

Being the youngest makes you special - you, my son, were the best birth control.  After you, we never, ever wanted another child.  Yes, you are that special.

Looks don't matter, it's what inside that counts - well, that one is the truth.  At least that's what my mother and father told me and look at me now -- FABULOUS!

Studies show that a few little white lies don't hurt your children, that Moms and Dads both lie at the same rate (doesn't that make us all feel a little bit better) and if you really think about it, your parents said the same lies to you and look how well you turned out.

Is there any you would add to the list?

You know you are a writer when....

 You know you are a writer when:

1. You are a hoarder of office supplies.  The perfect tipped pen is worth more to you than a new car.
2. You are attracted to strange characters, not for yourself but for your writing.  And they get tired of you dissecting their life.
3. You are the one asking all the strange questions.   “Tell me a little bit more about that naked in the wrong locker room dream.”
4. The right combination of words sometimes is better than sex.
5. People often catch you talking to yourself, when it’s actually an argument with a character in your mind.  Some of them will not shut up!
6. You don’t get mad at people, you simply add them to your novel with the specific intention of killing them off.
7. You freak your friends out because you are constantly carrying a small notebook with you.  Especially when in mid conversation, you chuckled stop and write something down.
8. All your friends go running when you mention the dreaded “writer’s block,” because that is all you will talk about until it is gone.
9. You think it is perfectly normal to stalk the couple in the restaurant in the airport arguing to overhear their conversation.
10.   You think daydreaming is completely normal, especially when you have something to write down afterwards.
11.   You are great friends with the cashier at the bookstore, but can’t remember your child’s teacher’s first name.
12.   A sale at Barnes and Noble is better than sex.
13.   You have to have a grieving process when you finish a great book, either one you read or one you wrote.
14.   Your delete key is the most worn key on your computer.
15.   Someone besides your family members reads your blogs.

What would you add to the list?

It's a Valentine's Pinterest War!

Valentine's is a day of love, excitement, and perhaps for a few of us, a reason to get lucky during the week.  Valentine's is also a holiday of low self esteem when you are a mom, when your child comes home from school with that handmade mailbox full of reasons why you suck as a mom.

When I was a kid the only dilemma on Valentine's day was how to write the name of the boy you "liked" on your Hardy Boy valentine.  If I write it too big he'll know I like him.  If I write it too small, he'll think I DON'T like him.  Wait, does this Valentine say "love you," oh I can't send this to him because then he'll really know that I like him.

Now, no one sent me the memo about the competition on Valentine's Day between Moms.  That this holiday was renamed, "Oh I'm a crafty wench," for Moms as their children brought in the hand decorated wagon of full of homemade treats and cards for the class.

My first hint was watching all the different things my friends were pinning on Pinterest.  "Wow, look Martha is making clay impressions of her son's heart out of cookie dough then hiding a SB Anthony dollar in each one before she baked them.  Now, that's crafty."

I thought it was the usual Pinterest game, that people were simply in a pinning war to show other Moms that we can all find the super craft stuff, but no one really DOES it right?

Then the mailbox comes home.  One Mom hand stenciled a Robert Frost poem in a perfect heart on a cut out doily attached to beautiful Valentine themed card stock.  Another, made her own Valentine paper with seeds of love in the paper, the children should plant the paper and watch their love grow.  And yet another drew 27 scale replicas of the Universe with a little "you are here with my heart" decoupaged over the Earth.  (Oh very crafty, a learning lesson and valentine?)  Then there's the one that made cookies that look like each child with hand lettered love poem for each one.

Me, I sent in the boxes of Candy Hearts.  I've got a whole Pinterest board of crap I could do for Valentine's Day but who's got time for that.  The basketball game was on last night and I had better things to do.

What I am going to do, is find some really crafty Pinterest pin about what to do with all the leftover Valentine crap and pin it to start freaking all the Moms out.  Maybe I can create a post Valentine, "Oh I can do crafty things with all your crafty things" holiday.

And you know what, my son went through his box, tossed all the cards and notes, even the exact replica of the human body in toothpicks, and went straight for the candy.  Take that you Moms.

How do you feel about Valentine's Day?