Raise Your Hand If You're Old and Fat!!

It's official.  I am old and fat. 

While waiting for the shower to warm up, I always get my clothes out for the day.  Nevermind that I do this in the nude and have to watch myself pass by my extremely LONG bathroom mirror to get to my closet.  Sorry for the visual, but ANY-way...

This morning, as part of my usual shower ritual, I went to my closet for something to wear.  While hunting, it occurred to me that everything towards the end of the closet has an elastic waist!  Since the end of the closet is closest to the door, the clothes in that area are those which are worn most frequently.  I have to laugh so that I don't cry because elastic-waist pants have always symbolized old age to me.

Mind you, my pants are still stylish (I think); they're mostly yoga pants.  However, they still have elastic in the waist!  I've finally gotten to the point where a zipper and a button are just too much work.  My once taut tummy is now more like a big, soft pillow making anything other than an elastic waistband very uncomfortable.   Ahhh...so now my wardrobe consists primarily of pants and skirts that do not bind. 

What's next?  Orthopedic shoes for my aching feet?!?!  If I start bedazzling everything in the closet, have me committed IMMEDIATELY because I've turned into my grandmother.  The woman never wore orthopedic shoes, but she did cut small slits in the sides of her Keds to keep her bunions from hurting.  I remember laughing at her until my side hurt every time she wore those crazy shoes.  If I'm not mistaken, she bedazzled them as well.

It just pisses me off, really, because I am the same age as Demi Moore and even younger than Valerie Bertinelli.  I bet neither of them have an entire wardrobe of elastic-waist pants.  Hell, they both still wear freakin' bikinis to the beach!  I, on the otherhand, have recently invested in a Mommysuit.  Ya know the one.  It's a one piece suit with so much spandex in it that you have to refrain from drinking while wearing it.  Pulling it down to pee is absolutely out of the question. 

My wardrobe observations actually produced an epiphany.  Why don't I get off my big, fat ass and fight mother nature??!!  I don't have to wear elastic.  Demi and Val (we're JC buddies) don't!  Hell, I've been sparing with mother nature for some time now by coloring my hair and using sunscreen.  Why don't I quit with the sissy punches and spank that ass?!?!

As a result, I've set myself a goal.  By the time we get out for the summer, I will have lost 35 pounds.  I will SCHEDULE (have to or it won't get done) my workouts and will go a minimum of three days each week.  Once I've reached that goal, I will buy myself a BIKINI and actually wear it!  I know it sounds crazy for an old lady like me, but I am not scared.

It's AMAZING what a little sunlight can do for your attitude...

Just Say "No" to a New Year's Resolution!

I hate the New Year.  Really, I hate New Year's resolutions.  I always feel like such a failure because I can never stick to them.  But not making a resolution makes me feel like a failure, too.  Every year it's the same old thing.  I give up chocolate, then Easter comes along.  I start exercising, then I get bored or too busy.  I start eating more veggies, then I get gassy.  Blah, blah, blah...

My mom used to always give up ice skating on Howard Avenue.  Since I grew up on the Gulf Coast where it rarely ever snows much less gets iced over, she was able to stick to her resolution.  I always considered it a lame attempt at not making a resolution at all.  Why bother?!?!

Yet here I sit here agonizing.  Maybe my attempts are even sillier.  Who freakin' cares, really?!?  Why do I get so anxious?  Why am I such a psycho about having a resolution?  When did I become so dogmatic about things?!?  Maybe I'm just OCD.

Regardless, I am in a funk because of the whole New Year's resolution thing.  I don't want to feel like a failure, but what is the alternative?  I guess I could start with a more positive attitude.  That would be great and all, but after 40 years of failing it's kind of hard. 

Maybe I could change the terminology.  The word resolution is so...definitive.  I looked it up in the dictionary for some synonyms.  The alternatives like resolve, determination, perseverance, tenacity; strength, fortitude seemed even more forceful.  Unfortunately, try really hard, but it's okay if you fail does not define the term.  My conundrum prevails.

Ugghhh...  I think a lack of sunlight is affecting my brain, and I'm suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder.  Hey, I have an idea for a New Year's resolution...  Why don't I resolve to move to Aruba.  It's not called One Happy Island for nothing!

A Piece of Humble Pie

I feel like falling to my knees and giving praise.  I am the luckiest person in the world!  I have a great husband, two wonderful and healthy children, a job that I love, a mortgage that I hate (but at least I have one), awesome friends, and so much more.  Don't get me wrong; I haven't gone and gotten all sappy.  Nor am I feigning supreme spirituality.  However, I did just get slapped in the face by reality. 

Today, I "interviewed" the sweetest, most humble little cleaning lady.  It was all my husband's idea, but a friend of his turned him onto a cleaning lady whose price could not be beat.  Now, if you know me at all, you know that I could careless whether or not we have a clean house; thus, I am indifferent towards the concept of a cleaning lady.  My husband, my current housekeeper, DOES have a dog in this hunt (so to speak).  He was excited about the prospect, and asked if I'd meet with her.  Whatever...

She came by to meet with me, and just to get a feel for what we needed.  In the 45 minutes she was here, she gave me a rundown of her entire life.  Now this wasn't a speech along the lines of "Poor, pitiful me!  My life sucks!"  Instead, it was a sweet lady telling a sad story smiling all the while.  I told my husband that by the time she left, I was nearly in tears and wanted to give her a great, big HUG (and a great, big check!).  Seriously, I was looking around thinking "Am I on Candid Camera or something?" 

This lady has more than just a few problems; yet, she was able to come across as pleasant and happy.  She has no education, no job, no money, poor health, no insurance, a dead spouse, a young child, a disabled child for whom she is responsible, an unemployed son living with her...the list just goes on.  Even the most heart-wrenching movie on the Lifetime Channel can't compete with this lady's life.  All the while, though, she just had this positive attitude.

She didn't seem to be looking for sympathy.  Nor did she seem to be looking for a handout.  She just seemed like a very honest, open person who wanted to talk.  So there I sat.  Listening.  Typically, not my role in most conversations, but I'm glad I did.  I am glad I met her, and I am glad that she will be cleaning my house.

She definitely made me a believer.  She could have been a bitter person with nothing nice to say about anything.  I don't think anyone would blame her.  Instead, she chose to get up this morning with a smile on her face and roll with the punches.  After all, it's Christmastime.  Upon leaving our house, she was headed to Walmart to buy presents for her nephew with cerebal palsy. 

I liked her style.  And I certainly learned a very valuable lesson today.  I needed it too.  I was on the verge of shipping my kids off to daycare for a little break.  We stayed home and destroyed the house together instead!  :)  

Karma Is a Bitch!

I can't hold back the blog any longer.  I have been deliberately avoiding my blogspot for fear of what I might say.  I want to protect the innocent; but the guilty need to be exposed for the SCUM that they are.  There is really nothing worse than a woman scorned EXCEPT for her very PISSED OFF friends!

My dear friend, Lovely, (not her real name but how I think of her) has been married to Ego (should be his real name) for over twenty years.  They have three awesome children, great jobs, a mortgage, and a dog.  At 40, they are living the American Dream.  Life is good!  Right??

The week after Thanksgiving, Ego comes home to tell Lovely that he doesn't want to be married anymore.  He's met someone else TWO WEEKS prior, and he wants to pursue her.  Furthermore, he wants to continue living at the house since he can't afford another housing bill.  Oh, and by the way, let's not tell the children.

Are you FRIGGIN' KIDDING ME?!?!?!  He wants to "break up" after 20 plus years??  He's willing to give up his family for a little CRUSH??!!  According to him, he and Hester (remember her from The Scarlet Letter?) hadn't even slept together.  Right...and I'm the Queen of England.  Puh-leez!  Asshole!

He's since moved in with Hester.  As it turns out, she has a fabulous job at the local record store.  And she's not some young, part-time stripper/part-time student either.  No!  Apparently, she is some 40 year old loser with three children of her own!  Let's see how much SHE loves HIM when he all he has left in life is her love and the clothes on his back.

Seriously...  Let's put all emotions aside, and do a little financial analysis.  For simplicity's sake, let's say that Mr. Ego makes $75K a year before taxes and expenditures.  That's roughly $6K per month.  Only, now, Lovely gets about $2K of that.  Oh, and the mortgage will probably be another $2K.  Of course, he will have to keep insurance for his kids so let's take away another $400.  And I'm fairly certain that Hestor won't allow him to live rent-free.  Let's add another $600 a month for that.  He's down to $1,000 a month and that's before he even rolls out of bed in the morning.  That doesn't include any debt he has either!  According to my calculations, he'll need a 2nd job to afford his new CRUSH! 

Maybe she can get him on at the record store...  I'm not sure they are looking for an IMMATURE, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, SELF-ABSORBED, SELF-CENTERED, NARCISSIST like Mr. Ego, though.  Ain't Karma a bitch?!?!?!?

Move Over Jim Carrey!

I think my son is probably going to be famous one day. Seriously... All my posts lately have been about him. Today is no exception.

Last night, his preschool had their Christmas program. He looked so handsome and grown up. I'd love to post a pic (this one is from last year); unfortunately, my husband was rushing me out the door (as usual), and I forgot my camera (again -- as usual). I only hope that my friends got a few shots and are willing to share.

Regardless, there he was in his Sunday best ready to sing his heart out. His class was the first to perform. As they entered the stage area, I saw him looking around for me. He was grinning ear to ear, and very excited. He'd been practicing so hard! He knew all the words and all the dance "moves."

Let me preface this story by saying that my little man is C-L-U-M-S-Y, clumsy. He wears glass and is nearly blind as a bat. He still hasn't adjusted to his glasses either. He is near-sighted so he gets a bit off-kilter when he looks down at his feet. "Watching his step" is literally a task for him.

Having said all that, where do you think they placed him on the stage??? Yep, you guessed it! They put him on the top of the risers. If you know anything about risers, the steps are not very wide. They are definitely NOT wide enough for an energetic dancer like my son.

So they placed my son at the top on this very narrow step. Like I said, his class was first. There performance included two Christmas songs. The first song was a very lively number, and Eli was getting into it. He was a dancin' and a singin' away! It was one of his best performances. He was so proud...until he fell off the freakin' stage!!

Yep, he was dancing like his daddy with his arms and legs just a flailing when he went off the back. He fell behind the curtain! My sweet little boy went down like a shooting gallery target! And the rest of his class just kept on singing!

I'm a bad mom because I couldn't help but laugh. However, I did run up to the stage to check on him. Hopefully, God will consider that some kind of consellation.

When it first happened, he didn't make a peep. However, by the time I reached the stage there was full-blown crying going on. I hugged him and kissed his boo-boo, but he was still crying. Finally, I asked him if he wanted to get back out there with his class and sing. With a tearful whine, he said "Yes, ma'am."

He stopped crying and got back on stage. He even went back to that same top riser. Of course, this time his teacher stood behind the stage with her hand on his back. His dance motions were a bit less animated, but he finished his performance nonetheless. And the crowd cheered him on...

For the finale, all the students got on the stage to sing. This time he did not go to the top riser. Instead, he went to the very front by the microphone. He was determined to be a star! Even when the teacher moved the microphone away, he followed it. His determination was even more apparent when another little boy tried to sing into that same mic. Each time the other boy got near, my son would stretch his arms out and push him back. We nearly had a UFC match on that stage.

All in all, it was a good time. Between my son dancing and falling, my friends' son singing LOUDER than any other child in the school, and the fight for the mic, I laughed until I cried. Christmas just doesn't get any better!! It's certainly a night I'll never forget. I wonder what he has in store for us when he performs again at his daycare program this Friday night???

One more letter to Santa... <3

So in my last post I talked about how sweet my little boy is... Well, today I am nearly speechless. His sweetness factor just went up tenfold. I have never been so proud of him as I am right now. And if he continues in the same direction, he will probably get his heart smashed into a million pieces in high school then finally make some pretty girl an extremely lucky wife. I am not kidding. I am in awe of his ability to think of others.

I always thought that little kids were self-centered and only feign interest in others because that is what they are taught to do. Like when I made him apologize to his sister for throwing my shoe at her... I doubt he was really sorry, but I want him to be well-mannered (even when he acts like a heathen) and to understand that it is not okay to hurt others. I thought that the empathy trait would develop much later in life, though.

Apparently not so. This morning Eli was acting quite determined and stubborn. He got up at 5:00 a.m. and was hell-bent on going to the mailbox by himself. He just HAD to mail yet another letter to Santa. He said that this letter was very, VERY important. He even made his dad put a Christmas stamp on it.

There I was in bed feeling annoyed because he got me up so early. I laid there thinking, "Great! He needs something else??? Like the 500 other things he listed in his last letter aren't enough?? How in the world do we pay for this? We've already spent 50 gazillion dollars on Christmas. He already has EVERYTHING available for purchase on toysrus.com. Now what?" Needless to say, I was not being a sweet, affectionate, oh-how-cute mom.

After some stern reprimands, my husband finally relented. He addressed the letter to Santa (aka Daddy at Daddy's work). He got himself dressed then got Eli dressed and headed to the mailbox with that very important letter. By this time, I'd gotten up and into the shower. When I got out of the shower, my irritability turned to curiosity. I had to know what was so important. So when he came back from the mailbox with his dad, I asked him what was the important item added to his list.

I nearly cried when he answered. My sweet little boy asked for the most thoughtful gift I could ever imagine. He said that he wrote Santa and asked him if he would go to heaven and pick up his grandma then leave her at our house on Christmas Eve. I gave him the biggest hug ever after that.

As you know, my mom passed away over the summer. This is our first Christmas without her. While my son did not get to spend much time with her, he has fond memories of her. He still thinks about her and talks about her often. It makes me sad that he never got to know her like I knew her as she was sick his entire life. It makes me even sadder that his time with her was so limited. If only Santa could grant him that wish... Unfortunately, I think he might be a little disappointed.

Christmas 101: Lesson #1 - It Is Good to Give!

We love Christmas at our house! My son especially loves Christmas! I've never seen a kid who loves a holiday more than his birthday, but mine does. He loves presents -- the more the better. Even more, he loves OPENING presents. Oftentimes, the excitement he displays prior to actually getting the darned gift open is climatic. The gift itself is only a nice byproduct of the gift opening experience.

While I really enjoy seeing him so happy, I have been trying to make him understand that the joys of Christmas come from the giving and not the receiving. (Anyone who has successfully taught this lesson to a four year old, I need your number.) I have tried to stress the importance of being humble and the value of sharing. As a result, I had both of my kids take a gift request from the the Junior Auxiliary/Carl Perkins Christmas Tree.

My son chose to give to a little boy, and my daughter chose a little girl. I let them choose the toy, help me wrap it, and put the gift under our tree. (My 3 year old daughter is still trying to figure out how she can acquire that gift instead of the needy little girl for whom it was purchased.) The whole process was very sweet, and I think my son understood...kind of.

Today, E wanted to play Santa. All by himself, he put on a red Christmas shirt, some red shorts, and his red and black snow boots. My kids are always pretending and dress up nearly every day. This get up was nothing out of the ordinary, and I really didn't think much about it.

After putting on his Santa get up, he asked if he could go out outside. Obviously, I said no since it's rainy and 40 out there. He got so upset with me, and went into this lengthy explanation of why it was so important for him to go outside. I'm embarrassed to say it, but I let him go on the porch just so I wouldn't have to listen to the whining not really understanding his mission. At least his dad made him put on a pair of black sweat pants under the shorts. Of course, mom had to convince him that the sweat pants looked like the boot covers Santa wears. He bought it and conceded.

He wasn't out there long before I realized why it was so important for him to go out. Beforehand, he filled a box with some toys he doesn't play with anymore. He then went outside on the porch, and began yelling at the cars passing by. He wasn't having much luck, so he asked me to make him a sign. The sign said:

Free Toys from Santa Eli!

He took his new sign out to the porch and taped it to our front door. He continued to chant "Ho, ho, ho! Come get your free toys! Free toys here!"

After a little while, our next door neighbor came outside and took him up on his offer. He was so proud of himself. He gave some of his toys to the little boys visiting next door. The smile on his face was worth a million bucks! And the generosity in his heart was PRICELESS!