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.