MIDWEST HABITAT

A Lesson in Ivory Tower Building

2017-04-20T13:46:00.002-04:00

My adolescence, was a messy time. A head full of frizzy hair that was transitioning from blonde into a dingy brown. Skin that resembled eggshell wall paint, spotted with tiny red dots brought on by puberty. I was still one year away from getting braces, and my mouth was an indictment of the fact that my teeth were too big and my mouth too small. But as a young girl it didn't bother me. I liked me. My sense of self was a product of the people closest to me and their perception of me.
My parents told me I was a good girl.
My friends told me I was funny.
And my big brother called me tough.
But adolescence is funny like that. One moment you are riding bikes with popsicle stained lips and the next you are keenly aware of your impending adulthood. The hormones that had begun brewing and churning within caused me to question who I was. And then suddenly I wanted to be a glamorous grown up girl that "he" could love.
I SAW "him" in the halls at school. I heard his name while eavesdropping on other girls whispering about him.
What happened next was quite an epic love story. Romance. Young love. Scorching passion. Raging hormones.

A tale of two star crossed lovers that had never met. Or spoken. Or even made eye contact.
I was suddenly aware of my awkward, undesirable appearance and overcome with self consciousness. Middle school is funny like that...you want to both stand out and blend in all at the same time.
Needless to say I was completely enamored of this new boy in school. And by enamored, I mean clinically obsessed. Had I been evaluated by a mental health professional, I can only imagine they would've had me hospitalized. In the early 90's this "stalky" behavior involved lots of creeping around, spying, calling his house and hanging up, picking up waste paper he dropped in the garbage and taking it home to scrapbook-it and (my personal favorite) hurrying over to his seat when he walked out of class and enjoying the warm spot he left behind.
Listen, I'm not proud.
It was a dark period of my adolescent life. I mean we are likely talking about some borderline personality disorder stuff.

And you can bet I was planning our prom, wedding and the birth of our children. I was both perfectly blissful and miserable in my delusional romance.
Until one day, just like that, he was appropriated by a girl that wasn't even trying. And this girl, here she was exuding confidence like her own personal musk. From afar, I could see him enjoying her company and her mindlessly tossing her shiny brown hair, causing him to laugh at her witty banter. I imagined she was one of those girls that was one step ahead of everyone else and read Seventeen Magazine in a reading nook at home. I also decided she was the kind of girl that got all A's and had impeccable penmanship. In my minds eye, teachers just loved reading her assignments, they would smile as they graded her essays because she was so insightful and entertaining.

In reality, she was a petit girl with a big personality. She had a beautiful face, thick yet groomed eyebrows, clear mocha skin and pillowy lips that were always covered in rosy gloss. She was unlike the rest of us thirteen year old girls that struggled to select the perfect color in the Rite Aid beauty isle. She artfully made up her face like it was a fresh canvas that she displayed her talents on daily. She also had a go-to hair style, a signature look.Unlike my hair, tamed only by a scrunchie and a fist full of Salon Selectives mousse. Her hair was long, straight and glossy and her bangs held the perfect architecture (which was a thing in the early 90's). Standing near her in the hall during a fire drill once, I decided that she smelled both fresh and perfumey. On that same day, I decided that her waist was so tiny that it was nearly the size of my neck (I was thin, but in a boxy boy-next-door sort of a way).
I observed the two beautiful objects of my obsession.
Him because I wanted to marry him and her because I wanted to be her.
I watched as they cultivated a friendship and it began to morph into something more. He was shy and she was outgoing. And witty...so witty.
He was painfully handsome and she was elegance personified.
They were both so out of my league that it became less personal and much more like my favorite glamorous storylines on General Hospital. In hindsight I was pretty much vicariously vampiring off their lives and ingesting it secretly as my own.
So..not sick or weird at all.
I wasn't mad that she had his attention.
Sad at first, and undoubtedly jealous, but not mad. She was everything that I wasn't and wanted to be. She was the complete package and I couldn't fault him for having good taste. I also couldn't fault her, she was just born flawless and special.
The school year finished and a just a few years into high school...I was finally over him. It took a while for that sickness to wear off.
But she stayed on my radar as we navigated in and out of parallel social groups in high school. I always innately knew to stay away from any boys that she might show interest in because history stated that she could have them if she wanted.
Not by force. I'm quite certain she was only partially aware of her super powers. And I was still no competitor for her charms. And thats what she was, ever charming and increasingly beautiful.
By the time high school was winding down she looked and behaved like a person that you just knew was destined for great things.
She had star quality.
And still..I had no animosity. I looked up to her as who I wished I could be. Cool. Brave. Glamorous. I prayed that God would just sprinkle me with a little bit of her specialness and then maybe I could be a vanilla, watered-down version of her.

Throughout high school, she dated charismatic, handsome boys. The kind that I was friends with but in a non-romantic sort of way. Slowly my sharp knee and collar bones filled out a little and my teeth were rescued by a determined orthodontist. My hair began to recover from the Lilt home perms of early adolescence. I began to experiment with lipstick, mascara and Covergirl pressed powder. Like a fawn with wobbly legs, I began to find my own style and way of moving in the world.
Still though, I observed her and took fashion cues from her. On occasion we even spoke and went to the same parties. We would talk from time to time and shared friends in common. I guess you could call us acquaintances.
But I still didn't have the ability to see her as a real person with flaws. She was securely seated in an ivory tower I had built for her in my mind. Maybe I needed her there to look up to.
On a spring day near the end of high school, I sat in a dark classroom full of students taking notes while the teacher wrote on the overhead projector. I heard footsteps move toward the exit. The teacher asked if I would "go see where she went". As I walked out of class I had no idea who I was following as I hadn't seen who left. The girls bathroom was around the corner from our classroom so I decided to check there first. When I walked in, one stall was occupied. I quietly squatted down to see the feet. I knew these feet. I had admired those shoes more than once before. They were her shoes. She was in the stall weeping.
Immediately realizing I was outside of my pay grade and not the person she likely wanted to see or talk to in her time of need, I cautiously and quietly said, "are you ok?"
She slowly collected herself and flushed the toilet without saying a word. The stall door and she walked toward the sinks. As she wiped her face with the coarse brown school paper towels she looked at me through the mirror and said "Thanks for checking on me, I'll be ok."
"No problem" I said. I waited for her to reapply her rosy lipgloss and fluff her hair. I watcher her retie her shoelace and tighten her tiny little belt before we left the bathroom together and went back to our darkened classroom.
I'm not sure what it was about seeing her come undone and watching her put herself back together again but something clicked for me. She was real person. Not a character. She had been struggling just like I had been. Everyday putting on a brave face and trying to figure out who she was. I will never know why she was upset that day. It could have been a break up, it could have been the stomach flu or any number of other reasons.
I didn't ask. And as sorry as I am that she was suffering, in some way that day, it was an important moment that changed my perception.
No matter if we are looking down on someone or looking up to them, we aren't doing them or ourselves any favors. Comparing myself to her drove me. It caused me to try to be someone that I could never be. I couldn't be her because that position was filled. I could only be me. Flawed, unpolished, socially stumbling...but completely original.
In an effort to show just how tied to reality all of this written account is, I wanted to share a conversation I had with my husband about 10 years into our marriage. He had been one of the boys she dated briefly in high school. And after a few cocktails on the deck one night I asked him, "Have you ever thought of me as vanilla, watered-down version of her?" and he looked at me with a surprised expression. He asked me what sort of a question that was and why I had even thought to ask such a thing. I told him I didn't know "just being weird I suppose". He thought for a moment and took a sip of his beer. And then he said "No. I never thought that. I knew her and she was very pretty but insecure. The kind that doesn't show on the surface. And when I met you I thought, she is someone who really knows who she is. You are not vanilla or watered-down.".
And maybe that's what everyone needs to hear. Our perception of others and ourselves is an ongoing narrative in our brains that all too often we need to tend to. To reign it in and pull out the weeds. Shine sun on the helpful parts and get rid of the sick, overgrown areas. Even as adults, we need to force ourselves to look at the conversations we are having in our minds and who we are comparing ourselves to.
And for me personally, somewhere along the way I was able to let her out of the DIY ivory tower I built for her and see her and everyone else at eye level. All of us are filled with faults and capable of being a giant disappointments, but thats what makes us human...organic, non-GMO, undiluted, not from concentrate humans.

Lunch Money

2016-02-02T13:02:00.000-05:00

Several times a month, I get an automated phone call from the kids school district reminding me that their lunch accounts are low and need to be fed with my money. I always marvel at how quickly they seem to get drained. I begin to get bitter and assume that they are filling up their trays with JUNK and ingesting thousands of gulps (a true scientific measurement) of sugar.
In my head I start a rant about threatening to force them to TAKE their lunch to school...only I quickly realize it would only be a punishment to me..tooling around Kroger, looking for fruit snacks and Dunkeroos, and rising up even earlier to shove all of that nonsense into a tiny paper bag.
Screw that.
But today when my phone rang and I saw the digits that belong to the district, I clicked the green button to see what child is without funds and began making my begrudging moan but something switched within my brain.
Call it the emotional time of the month.
Call it season affect disorder...What have you.
But I was escorted back in time by my subconscious and lead into my middle school cafeteria and the year 1991.
It was midday and my chicken legs were walking into the room deemed cafeteria that also doubled as our auditorium. The smell of lackluster pizza and mushy tater tots abound. It was noisy and crowded and hot...as I recall. My contemporaries were skinny and pimply just like me. The boys smelled of an excessive amount of Preferred Stock spray and the girls floated around inside a cloud of aerosol Rave hairspray. How anyone was in the mood to eat is beyond me...

And inside my pocket was a check with my parents name on it. Must be a Monday. Every week my folks would write out a "lunch check" for each of us, myself and my sibs, that was the EXACT amount necessary to purchase lunch for the week.
If memory serves, it came to $1.20/per day. Which amounts to $6.00 a week of sweet, sweet cash. My mother always warned me as she handed me the weekly piece of paper with her signature on it, "This is it. Don't lose it or spend it on junk or you will be outta luck"...to which I would always roll my eyes and say, "I know mom".
But lets be clear, in my mind I was always thinking "SUCKER!! Hand over the loot!!"
See, one of the things you may likely have forgotten as an adult is HOW TOUGH MONEY WAS TO COME BY.
I mean as a kid, when it came to money you really only had 3 options: 1) Working (lawn mowing or babysitting depending on gender) 2) Begging 3) Swiping it from the bottom of the ashtray in your dad's car or kitchen junk drawer.
So this $6 was no forgettable amount.
I get to the front of the line and make eye contact with the unenthusiastic lunch lady that extends her leathery hand to grab my ticket to wealth. I smile at her while she unwittingly walks out my little scam. She places the paper from my parents credit union inside her till and gives me the change after the purchase of lunch for today: $4.80 of pure freedom. I pocket the windfall and feel ten feet tall. Yep, I'm loaded. I walk back to my table and eat my chicken patty on a bun and those soggy tots..thats right, Michelle Obama had nothing to say about a 90's kid lunch...and when finished I decide to go back up to the line and treat myself to 2 large chocolate chip cookies and 3 Little Debbie brownies.

Because...I am the boss.
I have money to spend, and however temporarily, a metabolism to match my large appetite. I walk out of lunch full of sugar and feeling like a Scrooge McDuck.
The next day, in case you are wondering, and the 3 other days that followed in the week, I used my remaining riches to spoil myself with countless sweets that were a fraction of the cost of school lunches. I loaded my body with sugar, saturated fat and sodium. And I loved every minute of it. Because, as it turns out, junk food has always been far cheaper than meat and veggies.
And yet, week after week when my mother looked me square in the eye and pre-shamed me for an imagined misuse of her funds I rolled those eyes like she was crazy.
And now, a few decades later, I get phone calls and find countless candy wrappers in my sons pants pockets whenever I switch a load of jeans into the dryer.
And I know his game.
Boys don't understand the art of concealing crimes like girls do. We know that dumping evidence is key.
Just the same, I have chosen to laugh off his schemes because I have to believe that it could possibly be genetic.

The Family Road Warrior

2014-05-08T15:48:00.000-04:00

I am the primary pilot of a family road warrior.
Specifically, a Chevy Venture.
Pretty sure that they don't even make those anymore.. but back in 2003, I was happy to have it.
We had just had our 4th child and needed more space.

Sure, I had a few hesitations about finally signing up for a minivan.
But at that point, I was so swallowed up by toddlers and babies and pregnancy hormones that I had little to no self respect left.

We were 25 years old and most (all) of our friends still drove cool two-door cars.
With sunroofs.
And loud stereos.

So naturally, my husband only drove it when ABSOLUTELY necessary.
(He still had some granules of ego rolling around in his gut...but not for long.)

Originally, our payment on that little show dog was a $450 payment per month.
Which, on one income, was no small fee.
I usually waited until the credit union rep gave me a "convenience call" to remind me we had been late to pay..at which time I would, once again, pretend I wasn't aware of that.
(I think that I have -Aww Shucks'd- through most of my adult life. And it usually works. Just remember to smile and talk in a sweet voice.)

A couple of years ago, we finally paid that sucker off.
And now every month is a free month of driving...but you have to ignore some glaring imperfections:

Those tough early years through to today--have brought many battle wounds upon her.
What once was silver and shiny, is now dirty and scratched.
She has had door dings, handle bars from bikes take a swing at her, a couple run ins with random mail boxes, one bad day at the drive thru.. when we got a LITTLE too close to the brick wall.

She is pretty tow-up.

And her insides...oh those insides.

An absolutely unimaginable amount of coffee, pop, juice boxes, formula, cheerios, gummy bears, Egg McMuffins, Nacho Bell Grandes, french fries, apple slices, fishy crackers, pee, watery poop, snot, vomit, lysol, Doritos, M&M's, hot chocolate, cider, pop tarts, banana bread...and all other variations of animal (by-product), vegetable (dipped in Ranch) and mineral (rocks and shells from the beach).

She smells alot like you might imagine..with an added POP of freshness.
Thanks to my Purex Crystals hidden under my seats.
You may or may not smell them, depending on the amount of time since my last football practice pick up.

Oh, and the doors!
They sometimes work.
You gotta really put your heart into it to make them shut all the way.
Makes for a good arm workout for the kids.

I have tried to be regular about oil changes, as much as possible.
Let's face it though, we hate the oil change.
Those guys are always trying to score a sale or a date. #nothanks

My left turn signal hasn't worked CONSISTENTLY for years.
Some days though, it just starts working out of the blue...just to mess with me.

My radio is old school.
No satellite here.
And for the record, preset button numbers 4 and 5 are worn down to clear plastic.I can see the inner workings of the radio through those little windows.

My breaks squeak.
My tires are forever balding.
Windshield wipers really only push the dirt around.

But, I remain happy.

Why?

Cuz I am the cheapest brand of woman.

Frugality is a bigger part of my identity than my need to drive a hip car.

Besides, I TEND to become attached to people and things after long periods of time.
I KNOW for a fact I will cry when she finally gets hitched up to the tow truck and goes to the scrapyard.

I will be thinking of all of our family vacations, screaming matches, fast getaways, school drop offs, car seats of years past (fighting a toddler that hated buckling) and all those mornings of just me and her and my coffee...that kinda-sorta fits into the broken cup holder.

Ah....Home crap home.

80's Kids, We Hit The Jackpot

2013-09-13T09:58:00.001-04:00

I can't be alone in feeling this way.

There is something un-endingly AWESOME about having grown up in the 80's.

Let's put this into perspective.

I was born in (gulp) 1978, so that means my first memories are of the EARLY 80's.

A time when Pong and roller skates and Cabbage Patch kids ruled kids wish lists at Christmas.

I lived in an urban (that's a nice word for DOWNTOWN) neighborhood and yet I was very much allowed to ride my first bike, SWEET THUNDER, all around the hood.

We had a yard full of trees that kept us busy on hot summer days with branches galore to climb.

We played dolls on my front porch and had mini Olympics (side walk races) to determine who was the fastest kid on the block.

I proudly wore Oshkosh, Tuffskinz and Dr Scholls wooden sandals that made the most beautiful sound when I walked on my mom's dining room floor.

I had this very bowl cut.

You probably did too.

I played with my Lite Brite

and Mr Mouth.

My brother and I shoveled the old lady's driveway next door and cleared 75 cents.

There were bullies and freaks on my block, but we just knew to stay away from them.

Kids had common sense then.

When I started school, we watched film strips and our homework was on dittos.

I watched the birth of Nickelodeon and enjoyed every minute of it.

On rainy days we played Monopoly or Chuttes and Ladders.

I dreamed of the Sweet Pickles bus stopping at my door.

My parents got me immunized without a second thought of me catching autism.

I didn't ride in a car seat until I was 9.

I never had a near death experience with peanut butter.

If my teachers yelled at me in school, my parents knew I deserved it.

When a dirty word crossed my lips, it was followed by the taste of soap.

And helmets? They were for astronauts.

And I wouldn't trade any of those details for ANYTHING.

With all the consequences that we experienced through punishment or just by life teaching us the hard way, we earned FREEDOM.

The freedom to be a kid and do DUMB things while we explored the world, often without parental supervision.

Through trying to sanitize our kids environments (free of germs, weirdos, toxins) they have lost the ability to roam and learn about the world around them without filters.

I am not advising we drop our kids off at the city jail and let them sleepover..but kids today have lost the sense of adventure that takes over when you're on a solo bike ride and feel a little LOST and have to find your way back.

People often say "When I was little, my mother just told me to come home when the street lights turned on"...and now days, that parenting would be considered INADEQUATE or even CRIMINAL.

But 99% of the time, those "street light kids" came home safe and sound and perhaps a little wiser (all be it filthy and in need of a bath).

There is a confidence that comes from doing things on your own and not having a parent hover over your shoulder.

It builds character and made us responsible for our own actions..because if we didn't play nice with the other kids,

the other kids would smack us.

Lesson learned, my friend.

So, yeah.

I miss those days...and be sure of this, they are GONE.

My children's generation of classmates can't sneeze without a helicopter mother diving to catch the snot in a sheet of Puff Plus antibacterial tissue.

Gals, if you are a child of the 80's, consider yourselves lucky.

Raise your coffee cup

(or wine glass depending on the time of day..we don't judge here)

and let us toast the decade that made us..US

The Day After Labor Day Is My Favorite Holiday!

2013-09-03T11:34:00.000-04:00

Well, it happened.

I actually MADE it.

I know, I know..its cliche but I can honestly say..I BARELY made it this year.

They really got inside my head, you know.

I began to question my sanity..the thoughts, the frustrated thoughts, made me really begin to believe I was headed for an episode of SNAPPED on Oxygen network.

If you haven't already guessed the topic today..it is BACK TO SCHOOL.

God bless our 5 special fruits of the loins...but DANG, 2 months and 29 days is TOO LONG.

I am a firm believer that loads of knowledge is lost in those months and that schools know this..But the government has issued them a large payment to keep up the old schedule of 3 months off in the summer just as a sociology experiment on the parents.

They look to see if rates of substance abuse and/or homicide go up during those months.

I would bet they do.

Don't get me wrong, I love my children dearly.

But if I have to hear one more episode of Sponge Bob or Lego Ninjago on the TV or get an earful about how Grace isn't sharing the scooter..my head will explode.

My primary complaints?

1) My grocery bill. The speed at which food was leaving our refrigerator this summer was mind blowing.

2) Messes. I have sat in more little boy pee (on the seat) and stepped on more chunks of food than I wish to.

3) Noise. My kids like to spar. Often.

4) Up in my grill. Not the one we cook burgers on..but my face. I haven't read a book or magazine in months. And my kids aren't babies so that shouldn't be true..but they like SENSE IT when you begin to do something like read, and cut you off with whines or demands.

5) My preteen daughters ATTITUDE. I have had just about enough of that..I almost went all "Days Of Our Lives" on her yesterday..I could feel the urge to smack her ALMOST take over.

What will I miss?

Hmmmmmm

The swimming.

But otherwise, welcome fall..You slow, slow savior.

Happy Post Labor Day to mothers one and all!!

Summer Is The Time When...

2013-06-13T09:39:00.000-04:00

We are now entering the second week of summer vacay here at the Midwest Habitat.
It goes without saying that with 5 children of all genders and sizes running around the house, I find myself SEVERELY underpaid.
Gone is the time where I could at least count on the kids bathroom looking cleanly for the 6 hours between morning rush and afternoon potty breaks.
Gone is the food that was in the fridge.
Gone is the laundry that was sometimes caught up.
Gone is the quiet that is now replaced with wrestling and brawling between sibs.
Hello to bikes on the front lawn and Popsicle wrappers on the living room floor.

Not to sound like Alexander and his horrible day BUT:

I woke up to the sound of a smoke detector because you can't put plastic in the toaster oven, my kitchen floor was invaded by Jello and other stickiness that has now found its way to the bottom of my foot, I broke up a stairwell brawl on my way to the bathroom, the bathroom looks like an episode of Hoarders-WipeOut edition due to the puddles that lurk under the towels and old TP rolls, my cupboards are empty because I haven't been to Kroger in the last 12 hours and my youngest just informed me that he accidentally let the dog out and he ran away with a man training for a half marathon.
I think this is gonna be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
And we all know that I DON'T live in Australia.

Your BEST.

2013-04-09T10:20:00.003-04:00

Good morning!
I wanted to share something that occurred to me in the shower the other day..well just before I got in the shower.
You know that moment..when you strip down and prepare to pull back the curtain and get into the delicious warmness of the shower..BUT you happen to see your body in the mirror across the room first?
Yep, I do.
Most of the time, I am smart and I skip over that moment and close my eyes.
But not this day.
So with legions of disappointment and self loathing, I step into the shower.
I spent the first 3 minutes just standing there...thinking about what a bad person I am for being chunky and then next I promise myself that I will only eat vegetables..and will run 5 miles a day..followed by a trip to the gym for an hour of weight lifting.
Because I KNOW if I do these things then I will look like all of the girls we pin on Pinterest, with cute outfits and perfect hair and glowing skin and expensive shoes and amazing lives. Right?

But wait...
Then I have an epiphany..one I wish I would have had long ago.
I may get smaller, but I would never be one of those girls.
I would only be myself but with less mass.
Very few people on this earth, no matter what size, will look like super models.

Because humans aren't all made with those attributes.
We don't all have long, shiny hair and perfect facial proportions..and no amount of punishment we put on our bodies or how much we ridicule ourselves in the shower will change those facts.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be healthy, but there IS something wrong with trying to be someone that you are not.
I love myself.
I love that my face is not perfect, my hair can be frizzy and unruly, my legs are a little stumpy and my torso is a little too long, my skin is pale and I get blotchy whenever I drink wine.
I embrace that my lips just look like lips, not flotation devices.
My eyebrows and eyelashes are neither long nor dark.
My boobs do not stay in one place (up high), and my belly looks like it has many stories to tell.

These are the battles I have waged against myself, and yet, the answer is so clear suddenly:

Love those things.

They make me who I am.

And YOUR little secret "imperfections" make YOU who YOU ARE.

The biggest lie of all is that we NEED to look "perfect" in order to be loved.

How silly to have ever believed that, because I am loved already.

And I bet you are too.

One Funny Mutha

2013-04-05T10:56:00.000-04:00

We are quickly approaching a very important holiday.

Mother's Day!

We all love to be honored..don't we?

In an effort to keep things light around here, I went ahead and hand picked some GREAT cards that I stumbled on ETSY that I found to be giggle-worthy.

*ENJOY*

I hope you giggled more than once!! :)

Whatta World! * Whatta World!

2012-07-06T09:20:00.001-04:00

In case you aren't in this part of the country, or if you don't watch television..there is an insane heat wave sweeping the Midwest.

We, here in Michigan, are not made for extreme heat.
Give us a blizzard or some below zero action and we are all set.
We know how to deal.

But this business, 100+ temps, is not our bag.
Those of us who are lucky enough to have air-conditioned homes, are sharing the wealth with our less fortunate friends.
Cuz we are all just hiding out.

Our local movie theaters are HOPPING!
I have a feeling that the movie sales this weekend will break records due to the desperate folks hiding out from the sun and humidity.
So, you're welcome Hollywood.

Please God, make this stop.

Whatever we did, we are sorry.
Yours Respectfully,
The Baked Michiganders

Come On In! The (Gene) Pool is (Almost) Fine!

2012-06-19T09:07:00.001-04:00

No matter how old I get, I love a good family reunion.

Maybe it is something you are supposed to outgrow or become too cool for as a teen. Well, I am WAY past teen and still love them.

My reasoning looks a lot like this:

First off, you get to get a good look at the whole gene pool.

That’s right.

Compare yourself to the cousins and aunts and uncles and see who got what.

You might think things like this, “Man, she sure got Aunt Norma’s freckles” or “Gee, he got Grandpa’s flat butt”.

This makes for a good time.

Mostly because you can always find someone worse off than you…I got my Dad’s cankles..and I love to spy a cousin that is carrying around more cank cargo than me.

It helps me to sleep better at night.

Next, among family, you can fully enjoy the crazies.

Its ok cuz you are all related.

You can just embrace nutty Aunt Bernice and her dog she dresses up as a member of the icecapades.

And the giggling you do? It is in LOVE.

I love the food and goodies.

People don’t waste time bringing healthy things to outdoor family picnics cuz they don’t want to have to haul all of the yucky, unwanted food home.

You are almost never put in uncomfortable situations by members of the opposite sex. As in, you don’t have to cold shoulder any strange mens.

Well, I must add this one proviso, I did attend a family wedding when I was in 6^th grade and while my cousins and I were enjoying “Hammer Time” I had to face dodge the unwanted kiss of a second cousin.

I often think about how happy I am that my reflexes were up to par. Can you imagine having to answer the question of “Who was your first kiss?” with the words “My overly impulsive lustful cousin”.

Phew.

Just to put your mind at ease, there are very few creepy/scary members of my family. I did have one unfriendly Step Grandpa once. He died a LONG time ago. Which is fine cuz we were not close. I am quite sure he never knew my name.

He only referred to me as “Sister”.

And this term of endearment was only forced out of his mouth when he needed me to pass the mustard or change the channel on the television.

But overall, my family is a good time.

Please take the time this summer to enjoy your own little stew pot of DNA.

(Cousin Eddie: "Shitter was full!")

ByAThread

2012-06-17T19:12:00.001-04:00

Well, well..here we are.
Our first OFFICIAL week of summer vacay.
And things are going OK.
And by OK, I mean awful.
The kids are working very hard at trying to make us all mental.
The teasing.
The crying.
The head punching.

The throwing of each others possessions at one another.

I was born patient, but this is outer limits.
Usually, my best arsenal consist of threats, bedroom confinement..and the biggest gun I own, CALLING DADDY AT WORK.

Only problem is, he took them for a day trip fishing the other day, and came home a broken man.
He looked at me with the eyes of an mangy dog behind bars at the critter shelter..beaten down, dragged by the collar and dehydrated.

I tried to be understanding but the only real emotion to surface was one of "See??? I told you so!".

A few hours later, after he simmered down, we called a family meeting.
We needed to lay down the new law.
We cannot go on 2+ more months like this.

My husband begins: "First off, we love you guys. You each are very special to us. We think you are good people. HOWEVER, ya'll are making us want to not live here anymore. This is an unhappy place to be. You are rude, pushy and this has to stop. When I was the kid, my Dad told me to shut it. I went ahead and shut it. And if you wonder why? That is my point. The "why" is cuz he was my Dad. And you do what Dad and Mom say. Got me?"

And for good measure, I chime in: "And I am sick and tired of hearing that you are bored. I am not here to be your personal circus clown, entertaining you is not in my contract. When I was little, my Dad sold real estate and we sat in the car while he showed houses on Saturday mornings. It was hot. If we were good, he rolled down the windows and left us a thermos of Tang (mild exaggeration for impact here).

And Did we complain? Did we get out of the car and do the pee-pee dance in front of his clients?Did we cry cuz our Speak and Spell ran out of batteries???

NO. Cuz when my Dad said sit and down and shut it...we did!"

Our kids sat there with no expression.

Then finally, they begin to laugh. Our second youngest son belts out with a ton of giggles.."Papa would NEVER do that!!".

Chris (my husband) turns to me and says.."See, it is all their fault. Our parents spoil them and make us look like el diablo."

I imagine this won't be the last "family meeting" in the living room we have this summer.

Hopefully, they will begin to be more successful as the summer progresses..otherwise you will be seeing some of us profiled on "Nancy Grace" soon.

Oh, please no, not that.

She is the last thing I need this week.

Welcome Back.

2012-06-11T10:54:00.000-04:00

So, yeah. It has been a long time. What can I say?
But I finally have felt the urge long enough that it is time that I start blogging again.
And really, this is a gift to my Facebook friends who are sick of my paragraph long statuses.

Must...Have...OUTLET!!

Hello blog world.

We are back. <3

I have a bug in my bumm today...

2011-12-29T19:40:00.001-05:00

For all the short people that can't handle it when someone is over 5'4"...Why don't you walk over and tell that guy that he is bald or let that lady in a wheelchair know that her legs don't work. Oh what? You wouldn't? Cuz it is RUDE??
For that matter, stop hating.
Sorry you didn't eat your dinner growing up and that mama put coffee in ur bottle to stunt ya.
I am not gonna feel bad, cuz that IS the point of those comments.
And they should stop.
Tall people awareness. Pass it on.

This was my facebook post after dealing with yet ANOTHER episode of an overly unaware of themselves rude person while out shopping with my 10 year old daughter.

And these are some of the comments and responses I received:

OMG! ♥ this, and u!
We totally need a Tele-a-thon!
the path to change is thru stupid people's wallets ;)
Smile marisa being told ur tall is like being told ur thin... Jealousy!!
Short dudes creep me out.
Short chics are mean ! Must be the female version of Napoleons Syndrome
Oh Amen to this thing.
Awesome. Totally true
Love me some midget toss!
thanks Lauren, living with my Aunt Megan for the years that you did must have taught you how cruel people can be without thinking about what they are saying. My daughter Grace has to deal with idiots like that everyday. For some reason, my boys get patted on the head and "atta boy'd" for their height but people pretty much shame her for it. Really pisses me off. :(
Yeah, for some reason...people are really cruel to tall females...and think tall men are great! Boo!!

Additionally, it got like 7000 likes.

I truly think this is a colossally under thought taboo. And personally, I am ready to take the fight to the streets..on my own if I have to.

Place thoughts below: thx

Alright. Let's Do This.

2011-10-04T09:55:00.002-04:00

My life has changed. In the last few weeks I have morphed from the old me...tired, overwhelmed, covered in food, slugging thru libraries and grocery stores with a hoard of babies..Into a real adult.
Finally, 15 years into the journey, all of my puppies are in school full time.
And like any good Christian girl, I feel guilty.
Like, for instance, me sitting here with coffee and a laptop on a Tuesday morning at 9:30am..house quiet. Dishes done. Laundry caught up. Floors vacuumed. Me showered. What the heck? Can this be real? Who is the lady sitting in my pants?
To understand the reason why this is so hard for me to grasp..you must first know how my adult life started.
A few months after I turned 18, I found out I was pregnant. Childhood over. Mama-hood here I come.
For my 19th birthday my mom bought me maternity pants. Instead of hanging out at a bar on a Friday night, I took my paycheck to Target and bought onesies.
I am not complaining. This was based on choices that I made and in hindsight, it kept me out of a pile of trouble. For instance, I have never been to jail. Knock on wood.
And from that birth on, I have been living the high life of poop slinging and carpet scrubbing. Dish chiseling and dinner making. Taking little hands to public bathrooms and crossing my fingers at the ATM machine hoping that the grocery money is there.
I love each and everyone of our little (unexpected) bundles but looking back there were elements of adulthood that I missed.
Like for instance, riding in the car by myself with the music CRANKED up. Going to the bathroom by myself and taking showers without the door being bombarded by crying/fighting sibs. Having quiet conversations with my spouse (about what? I don't know). Having clean floors. Participating in "laundry day"..(everyday is laundry day at our casa).
So now, finding myself alone at 8am everyday, was at first glorious. Followed by puzzling. With troubling on it's heels. And finally, ridden with guilt.
I AM working 2 to 3 days a week at my business. But on those off days...I can't stop feeling like I should be helping a chubby little toddler or putting someone down for a nap.

This transition is one that I have been dreaming of for years..and now that I am here. I just don't know what to do with myself.

Happiness is such a tricky emotion when you mix it up with guilt. Learning how to spend time on yourself and to enjoy your alone moments is truly a skill. Time to start learning.

2011-07-04T00:02:00.000-04:00

Happy July 4th Everyone!!!

A Tall Glass of Prejudice

2011-05-15T21:56:00.000-04:00

Growing up, I had a friend.
Her name was Heather.
She was a little, tiny McNugget of a girl that could only be described as "cute".
She wore high ponytails, pink nail polish and had to cut the cuffs off of her jeans because they were always too long.
In the 7th grade, we did everything together. Which is funny, because I was the 3rd tallest girl in our class.
I imagine now how comical we must have looked together.

And I can clearly remember how much I wanted to cut 4 inches out of my legs in order to be petite like her.
Instead, I had reached my full height by the 8th grade.
And when you are 13 and the boys are still waiting on their testosterone fairy..5'8" is HUGE.

In my family, I was average..if not short.
My Grandma is 6 feet tall.
My Aunts and Uncles and Cousins TOWERED over me.
But when I would go to school..everyone from teachers to classmates to lunch ladies had a smart (dumb) comment to make:

"Dang! You are tall!"
"Amazon girl!"
"Bones"
"Tower"

And the strange thing about it is that everyone is sure they are the first one to bring it to your attention.
Like, if they hadn't said "You are so tall!" you would have assumed you were a dwarf or something.
Should I say "thank you" or "I know" or "sorry"...I mean what are they looking for?

Now, if I were that same age, and I were say, mentally disabled or blind or in a wheelchair, I don't think the teachers and staff and students would feel like they needed to inform me of my weakness.

But tall falls into this category where it is OK to say hurtful things and then act like it is no big deal.

I think on some level it is a way of people "putting you in your place"...like reminding you that you are different and different is BAD.

The only problem is that TALL is something that no little girl chooses.

It just IS or ISN'T.

Just like my petite comrade Heather.

Now I have a daughter, (and a pile of sons) and she is taller than her classmates and people always assume she is 3 or 4 years older than she is.

I have been preparing her for years..sorta of propagandising her out.

Getting her ready for all the hits she is going to take from lame brain people in the world.

The ones that will judge her or tease her or try to make her feel like less than everyone else because of a physical characteristic that she cannot change.

Other mothers at her school take the time to tell me how much taller my daughter is than theirs. I never know quite what to say still...I want to say "would you tell me if she had a huge birthmark on her cheek? Or would you assume I had noticed that?". But that would be snarky and rude so I usually just say, I know.

A few months back, my family and I were at a Wendy's.
I was standing in line by myself getting the food for everyone while they held the table. A few people ahead of me in line was a woman who looked to be about 6'4".
And as we stood there waiting to order, she had SEVERAL people ask her how tall she is and if she played basketball.
I felt sorry for her.
I wanted to say, Leave her alone! She isn't bothering you..back off.

But she seemed to take it in stride. I guess you would have to.

I get that from time to time, but mostly just from short men that notice and bring it to my attention. And I still hate it.

I really think this is the final frontier of discrimination.

It has really been on my mind a lot lately and so I did some research and there are LOTS of really cool blogs about life as a tall woman.

Here's a few blogs I have been enjoying:

Ramblings of an Amazon

Life in the Tall Lane

Tall Girl Secrets

My Tall Life

Living It Up Tall

Vertically Blessed

Tall Swag

Tall Tales

Sarah Vain & Tall

6'2" Mel's Blog

Amazona Style - The online international fashion & lifestyle resource for tall girls and women

In closing, how's about a tall girl awareness month? Maybe some PSA's about not making rude slurs toward tall'ies?

And why the heck have I never talked about this before??

Nicole Kidman minus Tom = 4"

Tom's new wife Katie making Harry Potter look like a little hobbit

Brooke Shields wearing her tallness with a side order of confidence

Uma Thurman and Jimmy Fallon meet eye to eye+

The Importance of Being Casual

2011-05-09T09:33:00.000-04:00

Sometimes as women age, lets say to their 30's, and they get a little puffy around the middle and they don't have time to get their hair quite right in the morning..something begins to happen.

You may call it laziness, lack of glamour, frumps, or maybe just looking like a mom.
Whatever you call it, it falls into the category of casual.

Casual is good. To a point.

There is something so comforting about putting on a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie.
It is like my uniform for the last few years.

You can go to the kids school to drop off forgotten lunches and transition straight into a workout at the gym--or do yard work, hit Krogers for some toilet paper, clean the kids bathroom, cook dinner..all kinds of things that are that much more comfortable due to the uniform.

I hate yanking up my jeans all day or having to adjust a collar or neckline on my shirts.

Throw in a ponytail and a sports bra and I am in HEAVEN.

So this all makes a ton of sense. UNTIL the day comes that you know it has gone too far.

For me, I had a couple of episodes that should have served as wake up calls.
I was mistaken for a man--more than once--by children.
Also my husband has BANNED hoodies from any quality time we spend together like hitting a movie or getting a burger.
Additionally, when you are all covered up with excess fabric all the time, people have no idea what shape you are in under all that cotton.
Which could go either way. Maybe they are assuming you are a fit little fiddle or maybe they are picturing a blob of lard. (truth is, it is somewhere in between)

So I am trying, like an ex-smoker or recovering alcoholic, to cut back on my indulgence of hoodie uniform.
To start out, the criteria for the uniform is that I either have to be actively housecleaning or working out in order to wear it.
That way, if I really am missing my favorite outfit, I have to do something productive to earn in.

See perhaps, if my brain starts to associate scrubbing toilets and breaking into a sweat with my comfy obsession..I will be like Pavlov's dogs.
I will begin to hate the hoodie cuz all I can smell is toilet bowl cleaner and BO when I think of my favorite outfit.

So it should work out to be a WIN-WIN.

Hey, it's worth a try, eh?

A Tall Delicious Glass of Vitamin D

2011-04-11T10:48:00.000-04:00

Just in the nick of time..I was SAVED.
On the brink of full blown seasonal affect disorder, my family and I escaped for a week to the sunshine state.

I had ONE goal on this trip (besides spending quality time with the crew):
Overdosing on Vitamin D

My stores were LOW.
Who am I kidding. They were empty.
Michigan winters are brutal and L-O-N-G.
By March we are 6 months into the winter and the end is still a month or two away.
One may get a little mental at this point.
I know I was.
You just get to a place where you have NO desire to get out of bed in the morning and not because of the pile of laundry or dirty dishes..but because you are DEPRESSED.

Not the kind of depressed where you want to jump off a bridge..just the kind where you are tired, grumpy, pale, ugly, fatter than usual..otherwise known as the tail end of Michigan hibernation mode.

The first day we spent at the pool when we finally got to Florida (we drove straight thru in a minivan with 5 kids, I know, a whole NOTHER story there!) I took the liberty of laying still with very few clothes on (much to the dismay of other swimmers).
And all I cared about was that sunshine healing my deranged mind.

And as clique as it sounds..it worked.
I came home with a new outlook and even began spring cleaning the day I got home.

O-O-o-o-O-Oh I got a new attitude.

Shout out to mista sun!
Thanks for the rays!
Now how's bout you come over here to the northen states and bring some of that good stuff with ya??

Laughs via Weekly Keyword Searches

2011-03-11T10:46:00.001-05:00

Each week, I check my stats on my blog.

It shows me how many people are stopping by and from where, and additionally it lets me see what keywords they Google to get them here.

(BTW: if I wanted more traffic, all I would have to do is blog exclusively about Jennifer Aniston because I posted ONE picture of her months ago and she brings me more Google traffic that you can believe! haha)

The things that people Google that get them here are often funny, sometimes yucky and always entertaining.

Today I bring you the best keyword Google search of this past week:

Habitat Smells

What?

Who Googled this?

Previous top ten (strangest) searches include:

Scut Farkus

Claire's Boutique

Celebrity's with yeast infections

alyssa milano teen steam

duct tape girdle

caboodles blue mascara

stinky mama

wicked step sister

god forsaken dog

gay doogie houser

(PS: I cut and pasted the search results from my stats page...I do see those spelling issues too!)

These always give me a laugh!

Happy Friday friends!!

TOP TEN MOVIES: A Cinematic History Lesson

2011-03-10T16:40:00.003-05:00

In no particular order, these are the films I have required my teenage sons to watch in order to gather a well rounded world view..cinematically speaking.

I will attempt to tell you QUICKLY why these films are so great and expose you to the most powerful or entertaining quote from the film...in my opinion.

This movie came out when I was in HS and let me tell you, I wanted to BE one Winona Ryder. She was so cool, smoked alot and I loved the roommate banter. If you weren't there in the 90's..this will show you what you were missing: Greasy hair, garage bands and birth of The Gap. Co-starring Ethan Hawke, Jeneane Garofalo, Steve Zahn and Ben Stiller. (1994)

"Hello, you've reached the winter of our discontent.At the beep, please leave your name, number, and a brief justification for the ontological necessity of modern man's existential dilemma, and we'll get back to you."

I am a raging Meryl fan so this is a no brainer. I love everything about her in this movie. This is a movie that is actually better than the book. Yes, it appears that does happen, but not often. She is an unapologetic homemaker that has raised accomplished children and supported an egotistical writer of a husband...and found joy in doing so. Her love for her family and optimism are contagious. I love an enthusiastic lover of life! Co-staring Renee Zellweger, William Hurt and Tom Evert Scott. (1998)

"It's so much easier to be happy. It's so much easier to choose to love the things that you have, instead of always yearning for what you're missing, or what it is that you're imagining you're missing. It is so much more peaceful."

I don't remember a time in my life when I couldn't quote this movie..all the way thru. You gotta love a house that falls apart, Tom Hanks, a fat realtor and a flying turkey. This is Tom Hanks before Forrest Gump and Philadelphia and all of the other reasons why he is now the Helen Mirren of male actors in Hollywood. He still had a sense of humor about himself and I miss that. He and Shelly Long buy a huge home that is cheap and soon find out why the price was so low..There is nothing like a little construction humor. (1986)

"Ahhh, home crap home."

The reason why this one rocks is because it hits funny on the nose and also makes you cry. You gotta love Vada and all of her antics and poor little Thomas J..need I say more? This is Macaulay Culkin before he became the greasy, anorexic drug addict you may see today in the tabloids in the check out line. He was a cutie back in 1991 and so was little Anna Chlumsky. The music, the sweet and realistic moments of kids on bike rides discussing the mysteries of life. Its a well done portrait of childhood with laughs and plenty of tears. Co-starring Dan Aykroyd and Jamie Lee Curtis. (1991)

"I was born jaundiced. Once I sat on a toilet seat at a truck stop and caught hemorrhoids. And I've learned to live with this chicken bone that's been lodged in my throat for the past three years. So I knew Dad would be devastated when he learned of my latest affliction: Dad, I don't want to upset you, but my left breast is developing at a significantly faster rate than my right. It can only mean one thing: cancer. I'm dying."

Whether or not you are an old movie buff (like me) you will LOVE this one. This story is fast paced, sucks you in and you cannot predict the ending. As an added bonus, you got yourself some Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart with a side order of Katherine Hepburn. The men are just as gorgeous as the women in this flick and their charm is overwhelming. Truth be told, I am not a fan of Katherine Hepburn because she just isn't my flavor however she is entirely likable in this film. Additionally, unless you have seen this before, there is no way you could predict the ending until the final credits role. FYI: there is a twist!! Co-starring Ruth Hussey (1940)

"The time to make up your mind about people is never."

I also need to cop to the fact that I am a huge Debra Winger fan. She is so effortless. She UNDER acts every scene. Love it.

This movie is a lot different from the book, but I once again, prefer the movie. She has palpable chemistry with her costars Shirley Mclaine and Jeff Daniels. She dies of cancer in the end..Spoiler...however they don't make her out to be a martyr without faults. Its a full bodied film. Co-starring Jack Nicholson and Danny Devito. (1983)

"I know you like me. I know it. For the last year or two, you've been pretending like you hate me. I love you very much. I love you as much as I love anybody, as much as I love myself. And in a few years when I haven't been around to be on your tail about something or irritating you, you could... remember that time that I bought you the baseball glove when you thought we were too broke. You know? Or when I read you those stories? Or when I let you goof off instead of mowing the lawn? Lots of things like that. And you're gonna realize that you love me. And maybe you're gonna feel badly, because you never told me. But don't - I know that you love me. So don't ever do that to yourself, all right? "

Besides the fact that the dreamy, albeit dead, River Phoenix is in this movie, this is a classic no doubt. Women have all kinds of coming of age films, but boys have what, Lord of the Flies?

You gotta love these loyal friends. They set out to find the body of boy who recently died and was missing. The journey brings these four boys closer and sheds light onto the future men that they will become. Narrated beautifully by Richard Dryfuss. Co-starring a very young Jon Cusack, Wil Wheaton, Corey Feldman, Jerry O'Connell and Kiefer Sutherland. (1986)

"Gordie: Alright, alright, Mickey's a mouse, Donald's a duck, Pluto's a dog. What's Goofy?

Vern: If I could only have one food for the rest of my life? That's easy-Pez. Cherry-flavored Pez. No question about it.
Teddy: Goofy's a dog. He's definitely a dog.

Gordie: I knew the $64,000 question was fixed. There's no way anybody could know that much about opera!

Chris: He can't be a dog. He drives a car and wears a hat.

Gordie: Wagon Train's a really cool show, but did you notice they never get anywhere? They just keep wagon training.

Vern: Oh, God. That's weird. What the hell is Goofy?"

This is, in my opinion, the best starter old movie ever. What I mean by starter is like when you start drinking wine for the first time, you want something that goes down nice and easy. Like a good Riesling. This is the classic movie equivalent to Riesling.

Once again, Jimmy Stewart is stellar and ever so handsome in this role. And his opposite, Miss Margaret Sullivan, is the best little shop girl ever. Loosely remade over 50 years later in the movie "You've Got Mail" this movie stands up as the better of the two. Co-starring Frank Morgan (the Wizard of Oz) (1940)

MUST SEE.

"The boss hands you the envelope. You wonder how much is in it, and you don't want to open it. As long as the envelope's closed, you're a millionaire."

If you can humor me just one more time with the classics, this movie will knock your socks off. I had heard of "precode" movies before but had never seen one. This is a movie that has enough adult content to make it a PG today. As in, you don't have to try so hard to read between the lines of dialogue to figure out double meanings and more obviously than that, there is no moral closure at the end of the film. The bad guys don't go to jail and good guys don't really win. Kind of a shocker to me. Jean Harlow is the naughty but beautiful female lead.(1932)

"Lillian: I'm not gonna spend my whole life on the wrong side of the railroad tracks.

Sally: I hope you don't get hit by a train while you're crossing over. "

Last, but certainly NOT least, comes the Breakfast Club. John Hughes just GOT IT. Somehow or another he, in his 30's, captured the tortured, feisty, immature souls of high school students. This movie has no generation. Sure it was made during the 80's, so that would make it a baby boomers child's movie (Gen X) but it resonates with kids still today. The cliques. The wanting to buck authority. Plus, Molly Ringwald. She was a strawberry colored hero to teen girls everywhere. Co-starring Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, Emilio Estevez and Ally Sheedy. (1985)

"Saturday, March 24,1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. Dear Mr. Vernon, We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed. "

Dang. I just love the movies...

ROYALLY BORED

2011-03-08T09:09:00.001-05:00

Please tell me that I am not the only person in the US that is and has been OVER this royal wedding thing since GO.
As an American, I could care less about the royal family.
Are all of these news reports on Kate's dress really a ratings getter?
Maybe they are playing to all the British people that live and work here.
Either way, I highly doubt people around here are waiting with anticipation to find out what sort of place setting they will have at the reception.
I even heard that they have a website that they are hocking memorabilia and trying to get people fired up.
They do.
I went there purely for the purpose of being a educated blogger and it was gross.
I think I saw them trying to make money off of locks of her hair and his toe nail clippings.
They even have a link so that you can download the wedding countdown clock to ur blog or what have you.

No thanks. Yuck.

Hold on tight. Close your eyes.
I have a feeling that the networks on gonna go fever pitch here in the near future..and the only way to avoid it all on TV will be to watch Nick Jr.

And for goodness sakes, avoid the BBC.

TRUE

2011-02-10T15:34:00.002-05:00

I have been plotting this post in my head for a long time..not to be dramatic, but because I couldn't visualize how I wanted it to look and feel.

This post is about FRIENDSHIP.

I am one of those girls who is picky.
I am friendly and love to have a good time, but in order to enter the inner circle, I need my trust vibe to be on FIRE.

So most of my friends are old, tried and true.

Just the way I like them.

With a couple newbies thrown in for good measure.

And only about a handful of girls that I would trust my life to.

See, lady friends are strange.

In someways, it is the closest relationship on earth.

Husbands, they know and love you, but there are parts of you that they will never understand.

Children, they look like us and we would die for them in a second, but they will leave us one day.

Family, we didn't choose them but we choose to love them (sometimes daily).

But a best friend is someone that you let in by choice.

They know the real you and like what they see.

You can show them exactly who you are and not worry about judgement.

You can cry or scream in their car about how unfair life turned out.

You can dance with them when you both have had too much to drink, and hold each others babies while chatting and doing dishes.

You can look at one another and know what kind of mood they are in and why.

You can see their insecurities, and remember the story of how it got there.

This is the kind of friendship I love.

True.

With this relationship, sometimes comes pain.

Because people are human and let us down.

God knows I have let people down in this life.

I have been betrayed by boyfriends in the past, and it hurts, but the pain of your best friend betraying you...feels like a knife.

I know from experience...I bet we all have lived through this at one point or another.

Older and a little wiser, I have in recent years tried to become more guarded with my choices--

With my willingness to let friends in.

But the flip side is this, I still want that kind of friendship.

I am a girl who needs that friend.

Maybe I was spoiled because growing up I had a best friend that lived next door to me and we were so close to each other that we could have been one another's third arm.

That sets you up for a kind of (deep) friendship empty space when you grow up and they aren't right next to you all the time.

And mine, of course, lives on the other side of the United States...

So I guess that means I need to big-girl up and risk much to gain much.

True Friends are one of the most amazing gifts on earth.

Irreplaceable.

Other people come and go but true friends last forever.

And as my Dad used to tell me when I would fight with girlfriends growing up: "If anyone ever really was your friend to begin with, they will be your friend again".

I believe that is true.

I Keep Sweetness In My Invisible File Folder

2011-01-02T12:16:00.001-05:00

In the last week or so, I have been witness to some incredibly SWEET moments. Some with my own friends and family, others I have been privy to while out shopping and eyeballing others.

These are just a few of the heart melters:

1) In the bulk isle at Meijer, a little girls (4ish) leans over and puts her arms around her dads belly as he pushes the cart and says "Daddy, I just LOVE you so much!"...He responds with a hug back and a smile.

2) My daughter laying on the living room floor, rolling around being silly. All of the sudden she yells out "I am SO GLAD GOD MADE ME!!". I tell her that we are too.

3) When older people (or just plain slow talkers) start telling a story. At first I get irritated cuz I like to talk fast and hear fast. But after about 30 seconds of listening to them, my whole mind calms down and I really enjoy hearing what is being said. And I walk away from that conversation feeling more centered and reminded that I do not have to move fast.

4) I love seeing my big boys be good big brothers, and my little boys looking up to them like heroes.

5) I love that my daughter tells me I am the prettiest lady in the world, (and I of course tell her she is back). It is not so much the compliment as the sentiment that when you are a little girl, you DO think your mom is the most beautiful lady. Growing up, I remember thinking the same thing and I never grew tired of looking at my mom's hands and lines next to her eyes when she laughed.

Funny thing is, sometimes the things that kids find the most wonderful about us is something we think is a flaw.
Example: My daughter loves my bedhead hair.

5) This Christmas, our youngest and I made an effort to always drop at least a dollar into the bell ringers bucket on the way into stores, and would guess what that dollar would buy for the "poor children". Sometimes he would say toys, or chicken, or jeans and one time he said they should build them a big brand new orphanage...seeing the movie ANNIE gave him a negative image, i guess.

6) Christmas lights. They are pretty and I will never get tired of them. I wish it was okay to keep them up all year long.

7) Waking up in the night and finding a little person under my arm. They make the BEST heating pads.

8) Still being asked for my ID when I go out to dinner and order a drink. It happens less and less, that makes it sweeter and sweeter.

9) My 13 year old son that still hugs me goodnight and calls me "his girl". (melting heart!)

10) Laying in bed at night knowing that my kids are safe and warm and fed, in their beds. The laundry is caught up and all the dishes are done and put away. The doors are locked. The lights are off. And I remembered to wash my face AND moisturize...THAT is a SWEET scenario that only happens a few times a year BUT when does..it might be the sweetest feeling of all.

Smells Like Teen BS

2010-12-20T22:18:00.000-05:00

This past weekend, I was prompted by a guest at our grown-ups only Christmas party to write a posting about the sense of entitlement and lack of maturity seen in teens and young adults today.
Good topic.
She passionately went on and on about how many ways this plague of laziness and self love has contaminated a generation (or two).
I began to marinate this idea in my post pickled party brain state the next day on the couch, while my husband went to retrieve our kids from the in laws.
And it struck me that it is a topic that very much goes hand in hand with a radio show I heard the day before while driving to Kohl's to go Christmas shopping.
It was one of those radio drama's that are meant for kids to listen to in the car and teach them a valuable life lesson. Usually I find these sorts of things painfully boring/irritating to listen to. But on this day, I was not is the mood for Jingle Bell Rock anymore and if I had to here "DYNAMITE!" one more time I was gonna go ho-ho-crazy.
So I hung with the story, I posted a link if you want to hear it yourself, but the bottom line is that they recreated what Mary must have felt during that first Christmas. She had so much responsibility on her shoulders, must've had a great deal of fear having never been a mother before, and had to give birth without any other women to help her in a barn.
She went thru a nightmare scenario.
Only when we think of that Nativity story, we picture her as peaceful and serene with no hesitations.

But until I heard their version of the story, it never occurred to me how young 14 (her estimated age at the time of Jesus's birth) is.

Nothing was handed to her. She was ridiculed during her misunderstood pregnancy. She had to travel for days on the back of a farm animal in order to follow her governments orders. Mary had to leave her whole family and go with a man she was promised to, into a strange town and give birth in a cold, dirty stable.
She had it tougher than anyone I know.
And I can't remember even one scripture verse where she complained about not getting the bouncer she registered for at Target or how baby Jesus was gonna keep her down and she wouldn't be able to "go out" with her friends enough after he was born.
I am not Catholic, so I have never been a raging Mary fan, but when I look at this situation in detail and contrast it against the teenage mentality in our culture, the difference is night and day.
How do we teach our kids about courage, perseverance, faith, and respect in this day and age?
Is there any way to cultivate a brain frequency that goes above their own personal wants and needs and looks for ways to help others and rise above the rest of the garbage going on around them?
I don't really know the answer here, but it has certainly lit a fire under my elderly bootie to find out how.
Our older boys are 13 and 14 this Christmas.
Time to get to work.

What's a Girl Gotta Do??

2010-12-10T10:33:00.001-05:00

Do we all hate this battle or what?

You want to eat food that tastes great and lay around at night but then you go to put ur jeans on and suddenly, you are too dang big to fit in them!

Well, this happened to me a few children ago.
I found myself LOVING everything about food and nothing about exercise.

I mean seriously, who would?

Think. Laying around in your bed after the kids are asleep killing a package of Little Debbie brownies while watching 90210 reruns...OR hustling up and going out in the cold to run around on a treadmill with a bunch of stinky, sweaty strangers?

Clearly, there is a winner here.

Ok, so after several years of choosing option A, I made a commitment to shake loose some of my mama fat.

Sounds good while talking about it, but MAN doing it is another animal.

I spend my precious alone time now getting all hot and bothered at my local gym.
I sweat, I count, I pray for it to end.

And what's worse? I eat nothing that tastes even remotely appealing. That's right. The kind of food that I would have laughed at a few short years ago.

Salads. Fruit. Nuts. Whole freak'n grains.

Who knew?

I hate it.

Now for the clincher.

This stuff is really stuck on. I am working SOOO hard to shake it loose but, no go.

I still am able to see my spare tire move up and down in my reflection while i am on the treadmill. And my thighs? They refuse to part. Shrink and separate I tell them!! (to no avail)

I never thought it would take this long, I mean, gee, It has been weeks!

I know, I know..I got myself here. All those fantastic nights in my bed with a box of heavenly sugar products and a remote.

It doesn't make it any easier though.

Pretty sure I will never end my obsession with food (the yummy kind) and that I will never be a fitness guru..but if I could just get over the hump here, I know I could be a better girl.

I swear.

I would limit myself to 1 (or 2) nights a week of giving into my weaknesses...