One more Halloween post. . .

There has been a lot of talk on the bloggosphere about tween's costumes this year. 

Know why?  Tween slut costumes.  Read this post and this post.  I actually saw some of these for myself at the CATHOLIC School Carnival last week.  Scary! 

I don't have girls.  I don't have to worry about thigh high tights or push-up training bras.  At least not until  my boys hit puberty. . .and then I will worry for a different reason.   You know I wanna get all judgy about the moms of girls who let their daughters dress as Little Ho Peep or Slutty Red Riding Hood.  I wanna. 

Maybe I should just shuddup.

Becasue I have boys.

I worry about:

Weapons.

Bloody, gory, hurty weapons.

I have one kid who will be dressing up like Einstein.  No issues there.  One will be an Oompa Loompa.  How adorable is that going to be?????  One will be a seafaring thief/vandal/rapist/murderer -- I mean Pirate.

Pirate is a good costume, right?  Pirates are cute.   Jack Sparrow (played by my very-second-choice-for-a-husband, Johnny Depp) is downright sexy.  I know that Pirates II & III were really really sucky movies.  Johnny Depp was still dreamylishious.  Even though he looks like he'd smell.  He's still hot.  I'm getting all drooly.  Sorry. 

Why do we think pirates are cute?  Is it because they are from a bygone era?  Will kids in 2210 dress up like doe-eyed versions of Charles Manson? I shudder at the thought.

At any rate, a pirate he wants to be and a pirate he's going to be.  An adorable pirate.  With a sword.  And maybe a gun.

He wants to be a pirate because of the weapons.  I could dress him in a suit & tie and he wouldn't care as long as he got to carry the sword.  He LOVES weapons. And toy stores LOVE to sell weapons to little boys like him.

Here are some of our choices:

Be careful not to get that blood on your sister.

Because kids can't get enough of bloody chainsaws.

This looks less like a weapon and more like an instrument of torture. 

Elegant, yet effective!

My personal favorite.  This one is called "Sacrificial Dagger".  Just in case we run into any virgins. 

All sold at a Toys-R-us near you! 

So, moms of girls?

Tell Little Ho Peep to beware of Pirates. 

No. Oh no. No no no no no no no.

I am totally and unapologetically ripping off Jen Lancaster's post. 

She'll understand. 

Read this. 


So.  Anyway.  What Jen said.

I Hate Wings

This post is for girls.

All the boys should go outside and play kickball with the Social Studies teacher. 

Are they gone?  Good.

I have "been a woman" since I was 11.

That means that Aunt Flo has been coming to my house every month for 33 years.  Well - 30, if you don't count the 3 times I was expecting.  And, I probably shouldn't count those.

30 years then.  30 years times 12 months equals 360 months.  I probably have about 10 more years to go before menopause.  That's another 120 months.  Considering the average cost of monthly products, I will have spent approximately $3,800.00 on Kotex before I am done.

Kotex, please, for $3,800 --  enough with the wings already.

I know they are supposed to keep your undies pristine.  What kind of undies do most of us wear during this special time, anyway?  Old granny panties.  With holes in them.  I could care less about pristine.  And after 3 C-Sections, pristine isn't happening for me anymore anyway. 

These friggin' wings are driving me nuts.  They don't stick where they are supposed to, they climb back up into the, uh, main compartment and get all tangled.  At least mine do. 

They actually have pads to wear with thongs.  Wow.  I have been known to wear thongs with certain outfits.  I can't even imagine wearing one during fright week.

I know that we've come a long way since the dark ages when women had to wear belts to keep their products in place.  That?  Would totally suck.

I know some of my post menopausal friends want to tell me to be grateful for this special time.  That it's nothing compared to menopause.  Well DON'T.  Irritibility is a common symptom. It says so right on the box of Pamprin.  I don't want to hear it.

I can't wait for menopause.  I know, I know. . hot flashes. I get 'em alreddy.  Night sweats.  Got 'em.  Panic attacks. Got 'em.  Increased facial hair.  Yep.  The only thing I don't have about menopause is the break from the curse.

I mean a break longer than 9 months.

What Fit People Really Think of Us. . .

Since I have been working out so much, I figured that I should start to run in 5K type races.

I HAD to participate in the American Diabetes Association's Dancing Thru Downtown event.  That was the finale of the V-Fit Leadership challenge.  I walked it.  It was about 3.5ish miles.  Didn't come in first, didn't come in last.  Wasn't any big deal, really.  I didn't even think of it as a 5K. 

This past weekend, I participated in the V-Fit 5K, benefiting Mission of Mercy.  In case you're wondering which one I am, I am the bright red one coming in dead last.

I am not disappointed that I came in last.  My goal was to finish.

I tried to stay as close as I could to the 2 lovely ladies ahead of me.  They are in their 60's, and they run 5K's all the time.  Before the first mile was up, I was eating their dust. 

I was also lapped pretty quickly by the mom pushing her 3 year old in the stroller.  She rocks.  She is in my age class, and she came in first.  (I came in second.  The moral is:  more people 40-45 need to run 5Ks).

We ran through a pretty neighborhood, down streets, through a park.  It was a lovely day.

Motorcycle cops were on had to ensure the traffic was clear, and also to ensure no one was hurt or injured along the way.  I tried to hitch a ride with one of them, but he wouldn't take me.  I am going to complain to the city.  What do we pay taxes for if our policemen won't even help us cheat in a 5K.

What was amazing to me was how others reacted to me.


Most of the runners are very fit, active people. Some are full on athletes.

No matter our fitness or experience, everyone was very supportive.

They were more than supportive.

They were genuinely pulling for me.

My friend Laurie (the one who Victor makes do really really crazy hard things), finished the race in about 30 minutes.  She is awesome.  She came to find me so she could help me run the last 1/4 mile or so.  She kept my energy up.

Tim, one of Vic's Super-Fit clients, ran with me to the finish line.  He was SO incredibly affirming.  He delivered me to the home stretch and cheered me as I ran up the hill to the finish line.

The finish line was on top of a hill.

Because Victor does things like that, the basterd.

Victor, who I love dearly despite the fact that I just called him a bad name, ran alongside me as I ran up the hill.

Everyone else was on the sidelines cheering.  They cheered for me as if they had bet money on me. 

I can't begin to describe the feeling.

I am pleased that I ran.  I am proud that I finished.  The best part, however, is the incredible feeling of support and solidarity I got from the other runners.

To my fat brothers & sisters:  I know that sometimes you don't like to tackle things like this because you feel weird being around all these gorgeous fit people.

I am here to tell you -- they want us there.  They want us to do well.  They are pulling for us.

I have 3 more runs to finish this year. 

By the last one, maybe I can cheer someone else on!

I Am Going To Tell You How To Vote.

First, decide who you should vote for. 

Second, go to a polling place.  They are all over the place.  If you aren't sure where to go, click here.

Third, show your ID to the old person sitting behind the table.  I don't know why they are always old, but they always are.  They are nice though.  They will look you up.  Then they will have you sign a paper saying that you are you. They will show you how to use whatever voting machine is at your particular polling location. 

Fourth, enter the voting booth, read your options, select the best option.

If there is no best option, select the least horrible option.


PLEASE NOTE:  You will have the option to vote all Republican or all Democrat.  This is for stupid people.  You are not stupid.  I know, because you are reading my blog. 

Fifth, cast your ballot.

Leave.

Sixth: call your friend who always bitches about how lousy the government is.

Tell them to vote.

That is how to vote. 

It's Fall!

More accurately, it's Autumn.

I love Autumn.

Even here where it tends to be steamy.

Plus my favorite color is Orange.

So the Blog gets a new look.

Hope you like it!

The Annual Fall Tradition

What is it about fall that makes me drag my kids to the "Pumpkin Patch" to take their photos?

I mean every stinkin' year.

I have 9 years of pumpkin patch pictures.

9 years of pumpkin patch scrapbook pages.

And my kids all look alike, so if I don't immediately write down which kid is sitting on the goddamn pumpkin, I'll never figure it out.

It's not even a real pumpkin patch.  It's a bunch of crates with already harvested pumpkins on them.

Because October is generally humid & steamy in Corpus Christi, you gotta get to the pumpkin patch early or you will be taking pictures of your kids sitting among slimy rotting vegetables.

Maybe it's because I have a fall fantasy.  I imagine crisp, chilly air and warm soup waiting for me at home.  I think of long tweed skirts and turtlenecks and boots.  I wish for colors and crunching leaves.

The pumpkin patch is as close to fall as we get around here.

It's my favorite fall tradition.

And the Winner is. . . .

Jana J!

Greg took Kathy's advice and used http://www.random.org/ to generate the winner. 

Jana's comment:

Best movie: Gone With The Wind

Worst: Son Of The Mask


Craziest costume: I was a man's worst nightmare...missing teeth, robe, slippers, curlers and big ol' preggo belly. One year I was broke so I bought a bag of purple balloons, fastened them to a hefty bag and was a bunch of grapes. It was actually very cute!



Jana

Congratulations Jana J!

I have to agree that Son of the Mask was 10 kinds of horrible!  And I bet the grapes costume was fun!

Enjoy your luxurious Starbucks gift card!  Suitable for re-gifting if you don't drink coffee!

More giveaways to come!

Is it Safe?

I just returned from the Dentist.

I had a crown set.

It hurt.

They took the temporary off (OW!) cleaned the stub (OW!) and put the new crown on (OW).

I don't mean to sound like a baby or anything.  But OW!

As she was cleaning the tooth, I couldn't help being a smart ass.

"Is it safe?"

She didn't know what I was talking about.

"Is it safe?"

"Is what safe, hon?"

"From the movie.  You know!  Marathon Man.  Dustin Hoffman,  Laurence Olivier, Roy Schneider.  You know!"

"I didn't see that one".

"But you're a dentist.  It's one of the greatest movies featuring dentists EVER.  That, and Little Shop of Horrors."  (No, Finding Nemo does not count.)

"I'll have to rent it."

"Okay.  Can I have some oil of cloves now?"

OW!

Should I laugh, or should I cry?

I have a close friend whose oldest child is a freshman at Texas Tech.  Texas Tech is in Lubbock, and it's pretty far from Corpus Christi. 

That makes moms worry.

It especially makes moms worry when their oldest child is an attractive, vivacious 18 year old girl.

This particular girl, Heather, is the nicest kid you can imagine.  She babysat for us occasionally, and my boys love her.  Heather is the kind of kid that makes you think that having teens might be OK.

It's still hard on her mom.

This is the e-mail I got from Amy (Heather's Mom) today:

So I read on my daughter’s FB post to her friend, “Sorry, but I had to delete your post because my Mama doesn’t know anything about that.”


Ok, I tried to let it go, but I couldn’t…she IS a teenager and that IS her “wild friend” so I texted her, “Ok, you sparked my curiosity, what doesn’t Mama know.”

About 30 minutes pass and no responsive text and then my phone rings……

“Hi, Mama, what’s up”

“That’s what I want to know”

“What do you mean? I didn’t understand your text, what do you want to know?”

“Oh please Heather, I’m talking about your FB post….”

“What?”

“So you’re going to sit there and play innocent…..remember, I was a teenager once and I’m also not naive so I know that you AND your brother do stuff I don’t know about…”

“Mom…..”

“The evidence is there, Heather, don’t deny it…..you get mad because you think I’m “creeping” on your FB but the truth is you don’t call or write me that often so I have to find out through YOUR FRIENDS what’s going on in your life (I’m choking back tears here)…..I always want you and I have to have a close relationship (now I’m crying) and that you could feel like you could tell me anything. So if you’re not going to tell me what you did, let me ask you one thing, ‘are you still a virgin’?” (You know me, the eternal pessimist and Queen of Gloom and Doom)

“Mom! GAH! Yes, I am……listen, can I call you back in 5 minutes”

“Fine!” And I hung up…I figured she was going outside so her friends wouldn’t hear her discussions with me in her dorm.

So I open my front door and Pete sees me crying…..”what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I just had a fight with your daughter….”

AND OUT SHE STEPS FROM BEHIND PETE…..THE POST HAD TO DO WITH HER COMING HOME AND SHE WANTED TO SURPRISE ME…WHAT A LOSER I AM!!!!!!!

On the one hand, this cracks me up.  Heather is the nicest kid!  She's still a college student though.  And, as Amy pointed out to her, we've all been teenagers before.  My heart sort of breaks for Amy, because I know how upset she was.  And I know that I am only a few short years away from having teens of my own.

What do you think?  Laugh or cry?

A Gift of Fat Giveaway -- Updating the rules!

I am such a comment whoooooooooore that in order to get more comments on my blog, I am going to GIVE AWAY something.

Probably should pick something decent.

I am giving away a Gift Card to Starbucks (because they are everywhere). 

All you have to do to win is:

1. Tell me your favorite movie OF ALL TIME
2. Tell me your LEAST favorite movie OF ALL TIME
3. Tell me your craziest Halloween Costume ever.

Updated rule 1: You must leave your comment HERE.  Not on Facebook, Twitter or Linked in.  E-mails don't count either.
Updated rule 2: If I gave birth to you, or I am married to you, you are not eligible.  All others are eligible.


I will announce the winner next week.

I will even let Greg pick the winner, so you don't have to worry about me maybe playing favorites.  Like to Nicki or Alexa O or Rae or Annabel Manners or other frequent commenters.  Because I would never do that.  Even though I love them best.

And since you are DYING to know my answers to these questions:

Favorite movie OF ALL TIME:  Sixteen Candles.  Or Seven Samurai.  Or Singing in the Rain.  Or Breakfast at Tiffany's.  This is a hard question.

Least favorite: Gorillas in the Mist.  This is an easy question.

Craziest Halloween Costume Ever:  When I was about 7 or 8, I dressed up as a pack of cigarettes.  Specifically I was a pack of Benson & Hedges Menthol Lights 100s.  Because that is the brand my mom smokes. 

Can you imagine an 8 year old dressing up as a pack of cigarettes today?  I didn't think so.

Can't wait to see your answers!!!!

Teachers Pet? Probably not.

I am taking Marketing 5311.

It's a very interesting class, and the discussion is always good.

I sit in front.  Because I need to see the board, and because I am running in from my workout, so it's the last seat left.

Yesterday, I did my first non-bootcamp workout.  It was awesome!  (except for the really really really sore arms, legs and ass this morning).

Class starts at 7.  At 6:30, I finished the workout, changed, picked up a bottle of water and a bottle of Sprite Zero and rushed to class. 

At 6:55 I pulled into the parking lot at the University, hopped out of my car, and ran (seriously -- I ran) to the building where my class is held, zipped up the 3 flights of stairs (Thanks V-Fit!) and landed in my seat just as Dr. Byus was handing back last week's quizzes.

I was panting a little.  I was a little red.  But I am sure no one noticed me.

Until I opened my Sprite. 

I sprayed Sprite Zero ALL OVER the classroom. 

Thank GOD Dr. Byus was handing out quizzes, or my Sprite would have caught him right in the crotch.

I went from "a little red" to crimson. 

Maybe next week I should get a Gatorade. 

In honor of my wedding anniversary. . . .

This photo was taken on October 10, 1992.

I used to keep it on my desk at my job in a staffing agency.

One day in 1999 an acquaintance came by for help with her resume. 

Her: "Is this YOU?"

Me: "Yep."  (Internal me: uhh. . .Duh.  Of course it's me.)

Her: "Are you still married?"

Me:  "Yes.  We've been married about 7 years already."  (Internal me:  How many divorced people keep their wedding photos on their desks?  Dumbshit.)

Her: "So that's your husband"

Me: "Yes"  (Internal me: No -- that's the waiter. Cheezus.)

Her: "He's very good looking"

Me: "Thank you"  (Internal me: Damn straight!)

Her:  "I mean, he's really good looking"

Me: "Thank you"  (Internal me: yeah -- you said that)

Her: "I mean. . . .I mean, he's SO good looking!"

Me: "Yes, he really is".  (Internal me: WTF?)

Her: "I just can't get over how good looking he is.  Not that your husband wouldn't be good looking.  But he's really good looking"

Me: "Thanks.  Very much.  Now -- about your resume. . ." (Internal me:  You think he's too good looking for me.  OMG.  You think I should be married to someone who looks like Louie Anderson.  You are a real bitch).

I haven't seen her for several years. ..I  kinda doubt she's reading my blog.  But if I ever see her again, know what I'm gonna say?

Me: "After 18 years and 3 children he's still great looking.  We still can't get enough of each other either.  So suck it, bitch!"

If you see her, give her the message, willya?

Took 'Em Back. . .

I did it.

I took the cute clothes back.

Greg was cool about it -- he didn't MAKE me take them back.  But I felt like such a hypocrite. 

That is an icky, icky feeling.

And how would I feel if he spent a lot of money on an unbudgeted item?

Pissed.  Really really pissed.

For all you "keep them, you earned them" folks out there -- thank you for your validation.  All is not lost. 

I will get them next month.

Because I am putting them in the budget!

Mea Culpa

Who is the one always harping about paying cash and staying within your budget?

Me.

Who is the one who does almost everything Dave Ramsey says?

Me.  (Except the private school thing.)

Who is scared to go home and tell her husband that she impulse shopped?

Me.

I budgeted for new workout clothes, because I really do need them.  So I bought them last week.  I also bought a long tweed skirt, a pair of boots and a handbag. 

They weren't budgeted.

I need to take them back.

I haven't yet. 

Then today.

I can't believe what I did today.

I am so embarrassed.

My friend, who works at Talbot's, texted me.  She said she had a 20% off deal for me.  So I went.  Just to look.  Not to buy.

I love Talbot's clothes.  Classic, preppy and very high quality.  And when on sale, they can be a good deal. 

I tried on a black silk turtleneck.  Because I don't have one, and really?  A black turtleneck is a staple that you can wear for years. 

The turtleneck looked sooooooooooo good on me. 

So did the black twinset.

And so when she offered to special order the red cable knit turtleneck for me, how could I refuse?  I need a red cable knit turtleneck.  I do!

Plus, she gave me a 10% discount PLUS the 20% discount.  That's like . . .30% off!

With 30% off, the bill was only $180.00.  For four things (well, five - the twinset is two things). 

I don't know which I dread more: telling Greg what I did, or having to face Kelly when I return everything.

Sigh.

Dave Ramsey have mercy on me!

Old Crush, New Crush

I admit it. I have had this crush since high school.

And you would think after all these years, I would be over it.

I thought I was.

I looked fondly back on that time as iconic 80's. My defining moments. But it was my past, you know?

Until this:




Molly Ringwald wrote a BOOK!

Not just any book either. Not a book about what it was really like to kiss Jake Ryan (I know it must have been amazing). Not a book about where Anthony Michael Hall is these days (not sure I really want to know).

This book is about fashion. And friendships. And makeup. And food. Lots and lots of talk about food.

Molly Ringwald is a girlfriend! She is smart! Funny! Well read! REAL! I am SO excited!

If you had a big girl crush on Molly in the 80's (and if you were in high school in the 80's how can you not have a girl crush on Molly??); then you will love this book.

It is no coincidence that my "girl" names when I was preggers included Molly and Claire.

I pink puffy heart Molly Ringwald now more than ever.

OK, but HOW?

I recently watched this video from Ellen.




She's right. Bullying is bad. Suicide is worse.

How do we stop it?

Maybe the first thing I do is tell my kids: "Listen, between you, me & God, we can solve anything. Come to me & Dad if you have a problem. There is NOTHING you can do to make me stop loving you."

Maybe the second thing I do is tell them: "Listen, if I hear that you are being a bully, I am going to knock you into next week."

Isn't that the real problem? We don't think our kid can be the bully. I am working hard to raise good men, but I know that my boys are fully capable of being the bully. If you see them acting like little assholes, tell me.

Maybe the kid from Rutgers didn't know that his parents would have gotten over the video. Maybe that wasn't the problem. He's gone, so we'll never know.

As I've posted before, I was bullied as a kid. Mercilessly.

When I was a kid, I was the only fat one in class. Some years there was one more, but never more than the two of us. I remember one girl named Patty. I've always felt grateful that my name is not Patricia, because Fatty Patty is a horrible nickname.

Fortunately, I have supportive parents who helped me through the bullying. My parents never let us bully each other, either. We beat the crap out of each other (actually, I beat the crap out of my little brothers & sister until they got big enough to hit me back) but unkindness was not tolerated.

Sometimes, however, I was the bully. Not just to my brothers & sister. Occasionally there was some poor schmuck who was below me on the geek food chain. Instead of being compassionate and friendly, since I knew how they felt, I was stupid enough to be mean.

I will never forget in 7th grade how mean I was to a boy in our class named Jim. Jim was chubby, quiet, and really smart in kind of a wierd way. I was as mean to him as I possibly could be. I called him names, I teased him, I talked about him behind his back, I think I even put glue on his jacket. Mean.

He wasn't in any of my classes in 8th grade, and I didn't see much of him during high school.

The summer after my senior year, he came into the McDonald's where I worked as cashier.

O.M.G.

He was tall. Strong. Broad shouldered. Clear skinned. Piercing blue eyes. Shiny black hair. Chiseled abs. He got CUTE!

He didn't give me the time of day.

Served me right.

I still don't know how to stop bullying. Do you?