My Mother Of The Year Award Will Be A Large "L" On A Forehead Cast In Bronze

So today is officially Lil Man's Birthday. And in celebrating said birthday in school - there is to be a "special" snack of the baked variety. Either cupcakes or cookies or brownies. Lil Man decides brownies were the chosen baked item as I make the best brownies EVA'. Technically Betty Crocker does - but well, I take all compliments when doled out.

*Here's the secret Bad Mother Confession...
When it was my daughter's birthday in February - I made brownies as well. I cut and packed them in tupperware and even drew a cute little note about it being Miss Thing's 8th Birthday....BUT....I didn't want to go in to the school. To pass them out. Didn't WANT to. Not that I couldn't...didn't WANT to. SO. So I packed them up, put them in a plastic store bag and gave them to her to take on the bus.
"Mom, I don't think I CAN."
Whining....translated means I want YOU to do IT!!!
My answer? Are you ready?
"Well, if you don't, I guess you get no birthday snack. Won't that be a shame?"
YES. I. DID.
Fucked up? Maybe. But this school has an event a week - and I was DONE.
Long and short, she took them on the bus. All was good.

Fast forward a few months to last night while perusing the aisles at BJS with Lil Man. Brownies were baked. And packed.
YES I DID HAVE THE SAME IDEA. YES I WAS GOING TO SEND THEM ON THE BUS WITH MY KINDERGARDENER - SO WHAT?!

Lil Man "Are you coming into school tomorrow?"

Me - "Do I HAVE too?"

Lil Man - Looking at me like I had sprouted another head. "They don't even know what you LOOK like there."

OUCH. OK - maybe I did skip the Spring party and possibly the Valentine's one too...but not even know me?!

It's not like I had a lot of work to do. And it would MAKE his freakin day.

So off I went this morning, where I spent a few hours with a bunch of kids who together sounded like a Motley Crue concert. I went to the library with them and even watched the Kindergarten Celebration practice. (They USED to call it Graduation - but for the kids who stay in Kindergarten another year - they thought it was mean...whatever). They sing songs like, Proud to be an American with these hand gestures - its SO cute and I SWEAR I get SO choked up (shut up) whenever I see it (same show that was for Miss Thing). They do When I'm 64 and The 3 Little Pigs - which for now the grown-ups get to SHOW them...
GUESS who got to be the 3rd Little Pig with the House of Bricks????? YEP! Yours truly. Best Part? My son yelling out - "Mom - you're the SMART pig!" Well, Hell Yes I AM!!!

I'll leave you with the visual of me parading in front of 90 5-6 year olds with a pig hat on my head and a brick in my hand and this little tid-bit from my son....
Last night - he turns to me very solemnly and says, "You know...today is the last day of my life as 5." My answer? Live it UP Pal, you're only 5 once!!

In Honor of Lil Man's Birfday...

I have been saving this one for a while. It was one of things I had put together long before I had a blog and probably one of the reasons my sis said to start one. It is absolutely true - no embellishments. It is my life.

My Lil Man started Kindergarten this year. He has always been my baby. He was stuck to me like glue always. I have an attachment to him that I didn't have with my daughter - a pull of some sort - but I always chalked it up to the Mother/Son Relationship. He was sensitive and kind. A flatterer and a charmer. What more could a mommy want?

I found out on his first day of preschool that he was actually a very talented artist (per the teachers there who raved they had never seen anything like it in all their years). I was proud - yes. Was I surprised? Well...no. I had been drawing since I can remember and I assumed one of them would have the itch too. Maybe that was the pull - kindred spirits of sorts.

During the first few weeks, Kindergarten proved to be difficult for the both of us. I missed the little bugger during the day and he was getting beat up in school. OK - maybe not beat up. He was actually hit twice. Once on the bus. Once in class. And SPIT on by a neighbor's kid - who's mother called to tell me about it (like a screeching siren at 7:00am one morning) and he never even told me about it. The kid admitted it to the mom. The neighbor mom made the kid come over and apologize and tell my son that he (the Spitter) was stupid and a jerk and it was ok if my kid never spoke to him again. A bit harsh? Maybe but I was glad. My son - telling the kid - Its ok Kyle - I still like you. Its ok. Don't cry. Yep. My baby. I hated those asshole kids. I coulda hawked a luggie on them - I swear.

So - I tried to toughen him up. I made him join Karate. He hated it. I made him join T-ball. Hated it more. Then. Then I saw a notice come home for a Park and Rec Art Class. He jumped for joy. He BEGGED to go. With a tear in my eye, I realized my boy wanted to be like mom - an artist. It was in his blood. He was sensitive because that's what artists are. OK I said. Off to art class we go.

The following are actual pictures of his drawings from the first day. Enjoy.

Call The Fire Department!

I am fully aware that the back side panel SAYS
that a serving size of WASABI Covered Peas
is a 1/4 cup...but I do believe you should stop
LONG before that.

I can actually SMELL my singed nose hairs.

Tuesday Ramblings

You'd think that over the weekend I could have put together a thoughtful post - but NO. I don't know if its the rains that were monsoon-like or the fact that I spent all of it with a crazed look in my eye... but I didn't. So, here's what ya get - like it or lump it.

1.Chuck E Cheese parties are about as fun as being hung thru your back fat by meat hooks. Unless you are the birthday boy....


Happy 6th Birthday Lil Man!

2. Or have a cool ass cake like this...



And yes you are seeing correctly - the Devil Walmart sells these little ditties - they light up the color of the candle - Very Fucking Cool.

3. I don't give a shit WHAT the experts say about iPods making you go deaf - I say its the only thing that can drowned out the sound of my stomach yelling to go eat the entire pound cake, strawberries and whip cream. AND how the hell else am I supposed to keep running the rest of those 2 miles without listening to a little Alice In Chains?!?

4. I don't care what you say - my sister rocks. She done saved my sorry ass (again) with the stupid favors for the Communion, by traveling straight to the Mikasa dealer and securing enough crystal candy dishes to hold all the Easter Candy I am so trying (not that hard) NOT to eat. Thanks my sista!!

Off to work, sew veil on headband for Communion, wash soccer uniforms (I SO wanted to say outfits - but that would show you how much I know about sports) and get ready for my class tonight.

Have Ya Seen These?

I saw them last weekend at our local IGA - where for a mere $1.29 for the box of 24 stars or hearts (I chose the stars) - I could transform a perfectly boring dessert of brownies into Magnificent Star Brownies. (Did you hear the announcer voice in there because you should have.)

They are very easy to use - same as a cupcake paper/foil - only I used Bakers Joy and they popped out pretty easily - I only lost one and well I ATE IT - not a total lose.

Go check out their website - they have lots of cool ideas.

I am off to transform Betty Crockers' cake mix into a fantasmic YuGiOh Adventure cake for my son's Birthday Party tomorrow. NOT that I know how many kids are coming as well - NO ONE RSVPs. Out of 7 kids - 3 parents called. And don't for one minute think these people would even hesitate to NOT show up because how CLASSLESS would that be to ASSUME I still made room for you. Any bets on how many others will show? I'm guessing at least one.

6 Weird Things (Times 2)

Which is twelve - but I could be wrong because, as I have mentioned before I suck at math. Without a calculator - I'm sunk.

So here's my list - since I've been tagged twice (I feel like the loser fat kid who couldn't run fast enough to never NOT be it)

1. I have weird body parts. I have no ankles or wrists to speak of. I am also double jointed in my thumbs and my toes. I can actually wave with my toes - fully fold them down and curl them under my feet... and I can walk around like that on the stumps on my feet - toes tucked under. Shut Up. I KNOW it's fucked up that I know I can.

2. I was once stalked by a man who was in jail. He used to write me letters about when he was getting out how he was going to visit me (and dice me into a million pieces) OK he didn't say that - but I was in college and it scared the FUCK out of me and HELLO he had my address!! A friend of the family who worked at the jail he was in threatened him and the letters stopped.

3. I once had a man jerk-off in front of me in McDonald's. Apparently, they really do use special sauce. He had a notebook up in front of him (nice cover, I never would have known). I literally threw my entire lunch I had just bought away and ran out of there.

4. I am an absolute FREAK MAGNET. Ask anyone who knows me - weird people seek me out. While walking the 6 blocks to the Swanky Affair - there was a large black man walking down the street rapping as loud as he could and who was he singing about? The girl with the basket. Yes. It happens all the time.

5. I have a serious affection for my IPOD. Actually I love it more than my family. Ok maybe not my immediate family - but the rest.

6. I work on national products/campaigns and pretend to everyone else its no big deal. But when I see my stuff I secretly freak a little. Like when my ads were in Sports Illustrated, Sporting News and ESPN magazine. It still gives me goosebumps.

7. I don't leave home without make-up on, my hair done, my attire in order or my wedding rings. Its like my armor. I feel naked without it. And yes, my nails are done too. Superficial, maybe. But I swear I just don't feel right without it. And I can shower and do all of the above in 20 minutes tops.

8. I am honest to a fault. If you want to know the truth (or don't) I'll tell you. I think part of this is because I am the most pathetic liar on earth. The other is I have no filter, as I have told you before. I often disclose everything I do wrong/stupid - like I'm confessing. I think I do it to see if I'm the only one. Plus, I totally can laugh at myself. And others.

9. I Google everything. I may be addicted.

10. I own more jewelry than a woman should.

11. I am an overachiever. Always have been. Its an issue. On top of that I am a control freak. Great combination.

12. You probably don't want to go gambling with me. Especially roulette - I can't stop. Seriously. Ask my sister.

The Party - She was a Fancy.

Fancy. Pronounced Fahn-Say like you were from Greenich, CT.

And I CAVED. I said, no I SWORE, I was wearing the kick-ass pants and I changed into a fancy salsa skirt and fancy shoes and ditched the Birkenstocks. Ok. I wasn't really wearing those but definitely something more comfortable than the toe-torture racks I wore. Oh, and did I mention it rained? That little piece of heaven will come in handy later on....

So, I picked up my girlfriend - not THAT kind, though I would totally pitch for the other team if she looked like Marisa Miller




- but alas she doesn't.

ANYWAY, we went downtown to try to find said Swanky Gallery. The directions said to park in a parking garage and it was right around the corner. Ah...NO. Did I mention I bought towels and rugs and soaps and a huge basket from Peir 1 to put it all in? Yes. And it weighed 5,000 pounds - or at least felt like it after walking 6 blocks in the RAIN, in hi-heel KILLER SHOES, in the RAIN. I wanted my arms to look good but DAMN.

The Gallery was really cool - it had an entire wall for Salvador Dali prints and even a real Picasso pen and ink. The catered affair was very SHE-SHE. Even the forks were arranged like leaves. Have ya ever? Me neither. While scarfing down on crab cakes and mini sandwiches (pronounced sangwitches around here) - I was assaulted by the brides best friend, sister and mother about How Upset Bride Is You Are Not Spending $1,000 To Attend Her Wedding In Another Country.

What? Are they serious? Like a heart attack.

WTF? How does she think this is an option? So needless to say, I leave there feeling pretty bad because I would hate to let a good friend down. And she was not only there for me every step in my wedding - she was IN my wedding. But my wedding WAS HERE!!

I proceed to vent to the my friend on the car ride home about this matter. She asks when the wedding is. May 13th I say to her as if she has three heads. Where is it? The Bahamas I go - Why you going? Again, I am DRIPPING with sarcasm. She says no she wasn't invited. WHAT????

She was invited to the shower - but not the wedding.

Call me old school - but this is just NOT done. Ever. Its shitty. And I was too dense to GET that when she was asking questions - BECAUSE of COURSE she didn't know the details - she wasn't invited. FUCK.

If I could have driven while hiding under the seat I would have.

So the rest of the ride home was spent wondering why I had bothered to don the fancy shoes - because I felt like a Grade A- ASSHOLE between the family/friend bashing and making my friend feel like crap.

I come home - tell the whole sordid story to DH and he's quiet - not saying much. OK. Thanks for the back-up. Feeling lower - I went to bed hoping not to have nightmares about Dali paintings and crab cakes chasing after me yelling "Why aren't you going? Why? Why?"

The next day brought a whole slew of chores/fun activities to do with the kids since DH was going into NY city to the Auto Show and I had all but put this out of my head, when while making lasagna the phone rings.

Its my friend.

I quickly apologize for saying all the stuff I did the night before. I explain I didn't know she wasn't invited...yadda yadda.
She's totally cool about it - and says No Big - not why she was calling. Then Why? Because SHE went home and told her husband how awful they were to me and how awful I felt and well she must have been convincing because she called to offer this...

Her miles for airfare ($700/ticket). I am speechless because who does that? I say thanks - really generous but I won't travel alone. DH & I do not travel via airplane without the kids. So - thanks but.... No she says, she 'll go with ME!!

WHAT??

Yes she says. She'll go with me and we'll use her miles.

Again, who does that? She has 2 kids of her own. A job. A life.

Not only is she the nicest person I know - let's NOT forget she was PURPOSELY looked over on the wedding list. Left off. Not invited. And STILL willing to go with me.

DH says he was going to tell me to go by myself (why he was quiet) but this is even better. He's leaving it up to me - whatever I want to do - he's totally cool with. So, now I am torn. Part of me wants to go SO BAD. The other part (the MOM part) thinks the other part is crazy. What would you do?

Cocktail Attire +Me

Yes! The big old cocktail attire/fancy-schmancy/bridal shower has arrived and boy am I....... oh fuck me - I just don't want to go. It is my obligation to attend as I am NOT able to attend the wedding and shit I did already RSVP - so I am stuck.

I even did a mini shopping expedition with my sister and found a cute top and black pants. Ya know "The Standard" in big-ass girls attire. NOT that I needed another pair of black pants - I have at least 10 . It was my sister excitedly screaming from the next stall over - "THOSE make your ass look GREAT!" SOLD. She should be a personal shopper on commission.

THEN I ran into the future bride. Not run in - look Oh My GOD what are you doing here? More like I was shopping late and had smoked crack and the gifts I bought for her on-line I SHIPPED TO HER HOUSE. Who's the ass? Huh? One Guess??

So I had to call her to tell me when it came, so I could go pick it up. Here's the best part...... wait for it..... one of the items was on BACKORDER and was shipping separately - to......... drumroll........ her house AGAIN.

"Oh Hi Future Bride, woman I don't seem to care enough to attend your wedding - let alone order shit correctly without having to make you work for it - there will be 2 boxes - give me a call - thanks your Loser Friend." Bu-bye.

So tonight from 6 - 10pm I will be rubbing elbows and my other arm fat along side the beautiful people that will be there - all of which are a size 4 and under. Can you guess who will stick out? Anyone? Beuhler? Yes the size 14 woman with the cute top and ham-hock arms next to the bar rapidly approaching the alcohol level that would kill the rest of the girls and send my sister over the top in hysterics. Yes. She's seen it before. I am FUNNY when drunk. LOUD. And funny. At other peoples expense. I think as a deformity at birth, I was born without an internal filter. Ya know, the one that tells you to stop, think about what you are about to say and then has you say something more appropriate? I don't have it. Come to think of it - its a genetic thing - because no one in my family has one.

HA! We are missing the Shut The Fuck Up Gene!

Wish me luck. Hopefully I can get home before there is an incident.
If not, and you happen to see a blonde on the news with a cute top and a Cosmopolitan in her hand doing stand-up in the downtown New Haven police station - tape it for me - I would love to see it.

The Peapod Guy Is Scarred For Life

I'm not sure if I have ever mentioned the fact that I love to shop online. For everything. All the time. I actually loathe going to the store (except with my sister because THAT is more fun than is legal in most states) for all the clothes/shoes/what-e-ver.

And to that point, I have a shower to go to tomorrow. Guess how I got the gift? A yep - LNT.com.

Saw a LURVLY pair of shoes on a lady in Orlando. Made a comment to that effect - under her breath, she says, "Payless. $9.99." SOLD. payless.com. AND they deliver to the store of your choice FOR FREE. FOR FREE...did ya get that??

And the thing I hate more than anything, is grocery shopping. Not because I dislike food. Oh HELL no! Because I hate all the white hairs and the women with an attitude if your cart is parked in front of the spices. RELAX. Stop huffing and ask me to move it before I throw down the Stovetop stuffing (instead of potatoes) and beat your ass with the pork loin I bought.

I. HATE. GROCERY. SHOPPING.

AND THEN....Peapod came along. Lovely Peapod. With their slick interface and easy ordering. And if ya ever had one of those Stop & Shop cards, well, its even better. Everything ya ever bought with that card, is listed for you. All you have to do is run through your list of weekly purchases and check it off, 1 of this, 2 of that - no we don't need that because we have 10... And you can go check that....run downstairs and check it - UNLIKE when you are walking the aisles aimlessly throwing shit in there like you were on that Shopping Gameshow! Remember that show? I can't think of the name right now....

Ya get the point. AND THEY DELIVER. To your HOUSE. Put it in on the counter. And I didn't have to call anyone for bail money. I think THAT in and of itself, is worth the $5.95 delivery charge.

The other day, I realized Old Mother Hubbards Cupboards were fucking empty and I had to right that but quick. But with our schedule looking like this - I hardly had the time to run out even for a few items...

Monday - Karate for Miss Thing
Tuesday - I teach my class
Wednesday - Lil Man has Soccer practice
Thursday - Skating for Miss Thing
Friday - Soccer practice for Miss Thing
Saturday - CCD class, soccer game for Lil Man
Sunday - Soccer game for Miss Thing and church
And both DH and I work full time - albeit mine is from home - I am chained to the computer every day.

I'm exhausted just writing it.

So off I went to find my laptop and make myself a list. I decided that I didn't want to spend all that time waiting around for the Peapod guy. I'd take the 7-9AM time slot. They NEVER get here first. If anything last.

Yep. uh huh. Except for this morning. The morning I slept in. The morning that the alarm had not gone off yet (7:00am alarm). I used to have an internal alarm - where the fuck did that go? Seriously, where? With my younger, skinner body and that other black sock?

So there I am, face pressed into the pillow, sheets twisted around and I am snapped awake by the clearly audible Ding Dong (which rang in my head - Oh Shit Bitch, The Pod Guy is Here - Run Forrest, Run) I was still half asleep.

I stumbled (literally) out of bed, eyes barely open and fell/ran down the stairs. I threw open the door and a clearly shocked Peapod delivery guy was at the door with all my bags already on the porch. Eyes squinted, I mumble "Sorry" very aware that I had morning breath and had not brushed let alone peed - and well I had to do one more than the other. He says something to the effect of "He's sorry. He's early (6:50 people). Hope its ok" I say no problem, open the door and then I saw it - my reflection in the mirror.

I had not taken off my make-up from the night before.
I had DEEP lines from sleeping across my entire face.
I had ridiculously puffy eyes.
My hair was sticking up every which way - like I had been break-dancing.
And.No.Bra.On. with a white tank. And it was cold.
I probably had drool too - but it flew off on him.

See how pretty that picture looks?????

I was so flustered, I threw on a sweatshirt - started rubbing my eyes and well, by the time he left (screaming) I looked like a coke addict. And I didn't even tip the guy. He ran out so fast. Or maybe I was too slow.

I SO know I am going to be lunch banter at the Pod today.

Snip, Snap Paddy-Whack...

Little snippets of the last few days -
since I don't have time to write a long, thought out post.

Lil Man and I in the car...

"Ma, ya wanna know what's WHACK?"
(He's FIVE people and we are WHITER than WHITE)

Through hysterical laughter...."What? What is WHACK?"

"That I saw My Teacher at the rollerskating rink."

Me - "Hmmm. Yeah , that IS whack"



My husband after playing Laser Tag with the Kids

"Laser tag is great. Its like paintball.
Without the pain of getting hit and all the running.
I sat up on top and just picked all the kids off."



My friend telling me how they celebrate Easter

"The kids have a chocolate egg Hunt in the back yard. They the guys go and hide the plastic eggs with money and scratch-offs inside. Only the women do it. Its in the front yard. We even bring a change of shoes for better traction."

Me - "Can you tell me what time this is, because I would like to drive-by to see it..."

Her - "Yeah, it only sucks if you are the one who gets the egg with "You're a loser inside"

Me - HYSTERICAL laughter.



May you all not be the ones with the Loser Message inside. Cuz that would just be whack.

Reasons Why I Can't Live Without My Husband

(Alternate headline: Why I can't kill him off and bury him in the backyard even those he makes me WANT to sometimes.)

1. He kills all the spiders.
2. He also picks up any dead animals/rodents. Yuck.
3. Two Words - Self Tanner. I would NEVER be able to get my back.....
4. He saves money - he's a saver/penny-pincher.
5. The sex is still mind-blowing after 15 years.
6. He has THE MOST TWISTED sense of humor (besides my own) that I have ever met.
7. He makes me coffee EVERY morning.
8. He thinks I'm sexy.
9. He's seen my naked for the last 15 years - that has to say SOMETHING about endurance, no?
10. We have inside jokes.
11. We poke fun (together and separately) at everyone, everything.
12. He knows ALL of my dirty little secrets.
13. He. LOVES. Me. anyway.
14. He does all the laundry. Actually he does laundry ALMOST every day.
15. He always supports me. He's my rock.
16. He lets me drive his hot little car whenever I don't want to be seen in the Minivan.
17. He pays the bills. On time. Always.
18. He's sexy.
19. He washes the cars.
20. He tells me every day how great I look and how proud he is that I am working so hard Working Out.
21. We like the same crappy music.
22. His...*ahem* manhood is the same size as Mr. Tommy Lee. It's true. I've seen the tape. Twice.
23. (There are more, but my sister says I can't list those on the internet...)

Why Isn't It Warm Enough To Wear My New Sandals?????

I mean COME.ON. already.

Look how cute these are!




Ok - maybe not cute in size 11 - but WHATEVER.
Come on Spring - Momma's Got A New Pair A Shoes!!

It IS April 5th, Right? Right?!

I mean, I'm only asking because when I got up this morning - there was this funny white stuff falling from the sky and as I think I mentioned above - IT. IS. APRIL. 5TH.

Ahem.

Behold....



My poor little flowers.... Did I HAVE flowers? I think they are there somewhere.

That Mother Nature is a Mother alright.

On a better mother note...
Last night I was able to check off my list the following...

1. Picked up taxes. They are signed, sealed and awaiting the mailman.
2. Completed the task of finding the proper crap for the goodie bags.
Which included: Yu-Gi-Oh pencils and stickers as well as enough candy to rot all teeth.
3. Secured the cake topper for said son's fabulous cake. (At Stop & Shop - ladies FYI - they will sell you the toppers they use to decorate their nasty cakes for $4)
4. Bought all paper goods and a few decorations for 1st Holy Communion.
5. Bought the veil that I need to attach to a hair band for the Holy Day.
6. Bought a nice basket for the Bridal Shower/Swanky Soiree gift.
7. Was BEGGED by the upcoming seniors at my College to teach their Advertising Portfolio Class next semester. It is already given to another teacher and they don't want him. They want me. They are going to the Dean to see if they can make it happen. Is that crazy, or what? Up until now, I have taught Advertising Design I and II. I told them I would be happy to if it comes to be.

I was able to go to bed with a sense of accomplishment. Tonight, me and Lady Horkin, are going out for a wild night of Jelly Bean perusing at the not-so local to her, Target. And hopefully Easter outfits and Communion shoes and an outfit for me for that damn Bridal Shower........

Excuse Me, I Think I left An Entire Month In My Other Pants

Did you ever have one of those morning, stretch arms way over head, stumble to the bathroom and midstream realize that your sons birthday party is not booked (or even FUCKING planned yet) and its in 2 weeks??

Oh yeah, and that little holiday....what is it.... EASTER is in-between!!

AND I HAVE NOTHING. Not a Peep. Not an Egg. Not a Jelly-fucking-bean.

Oh Yeah - and a few weeks after that....1st Communion!!

No shoes. No tights. No invitations to even invite people. Yes I am making the invitations. I did buy some little gold crosses to glue on.....

HOLY FUCKING CRAP!!!!!!

I am freaking out.

So I quickly booked a Chuck E Cheese party. Ran off a dozen invites that I threw together Yu-Gi-Oh style - Thanks God their mother is a graphic designer or they would be fucked for sure. Cut and put in envelopes for the school friends at 9:00 last night. Quickly searched Oriental trading for some crap for the goodie bags and he's about done. Thankfully for him, I have already bought a few presents for his B-day. And I guess I'll pick up more when I am doing the Easter Bunny's job.

Throw into the mix - that this holiday was supposed to be at my mothers - but considering the major renovations going on over there - it will be at my house. Perfect. Oh and did I tell you? My SIL, who has transferred her and her family to Belgium for the last year MAY be coming home for Easter. (Add 2 MORE gifts to my list for my nieces). MAYBE. She's not sure. She'll let me know. WHEN????

And I have to make a cake for my son. Not any ole' Betty Crocker bitch. A real creative cake. Yu-Gi-Oh style. Cuz that's how I roll. Need to do a little research on that one...

And the Communion Cake - here's my plan.....





Am I fucking crazy?
Too late, I already bought the pans. And the figures.

I really need to stop smoking crack.

So Here I Weigh In

I have read on many a post, the firestorm debate I like to call
"The Old Bait and Switch". Some, who will remain nameless,
believe that under no circumstances should a woman gain any
extra pounds than what she had when they were dating because
it's false advertising.

Hmmm.

Well, considering that I have been on both sides - a very skinny
bride and a not-so-skinny Mom - here's how I weigh in...

*• I know that when I was at my skinniest and my heaviest
I wasn't happy with my body BUT my husband was.

*• I know that if I were on Survivor I could last weeks without food....

*• I know that without the weight - I would still be the person
that I am in my heart.

*• I know that these broad shoulders have withstood the weight
of my husband without a job for 9 months as well as two
major back surgeries WITH a smile on my chubby face.

*• I know that I have been on every diet, taken prescription meds
and run for hours on an elliptical for 3 months and only lost
10 fucking pounds. I did gain my own respect though.

* I know that I could walk a hundred miles in my own shoes
today and every day.

*• I know what works for me doesn't for everyone.

*• I know that making huge generalizations about what
people SHOULD do and look like can spiral into historic
catastrophes.

*• I know that when I pray in church, I do not pray for my
hips to shrink, but to always be here to take care of my
family with all the love I can hold in my big body.

*• I know that regardless of weight, I AM a different person
than I was 15 years ago when I met my husband. Of course
I am. And he is too. But we have grown together (every which
way) and love each other more and more with every wrinkle,
pound and memory.

Would I like to be skinny? Sure. Would I give up the laugh lines in my face?
No fucking way. Would I give up the stretch marks that will forever
remind me of the two beautiful beings that I made in my glorious body?
Hell no. They are mine. They are my reminder of who I am.


I am me and I am happy.