Thanksgiving Weekend Recovery

12 steps to recovery...

1. I admitted I had several problems: a torrid, on-going love affair with food and a crazy shopping addiction that would have me out at 3 a.m.

2. I am a true believer that caffeine can truly restore my sanity.

3. I am turning my life over to the gym so as to lose this fat ass and the 20 pounds I gained this weekend. Whoever said turkey was healthy is a damn liar.

4. I have 'inventoried' myself and have basically come to grips with the fact that there is a whole lotta inventory goin' on here. That 'inventory' has mostly settled in my ass, thighs and upper arms. All this to show and I didn't have an ounce of dessert on Thanksgiving, what the hell?

5. I admitted my Black Friday sins to my Hubby before he checked the bank balance so he didn't freak the fuck out. Most of the shit I got was for him so this softened the blow.

Y'all should know by now that I have neither the time nor inclination to make it through 12 full steps! My attention span pretty much gives out at 5. The bottom line is that I survived eating copious amounts of turkey and staying up for almost 24 hours straight due to Black Friday shopping and have lived to tell about it.

Lessons learned...

1. The tryptophan in turkey doesn't make me tired. The over eating until I freakin' want to explode does.

2. The cooking marathon the day after Thanksgiving is just as exhausting as the cooking you do for the holiday. Tearing up that damn carcass and making everything under the sun with it is tiring. My freezer and fridge are the proud holders of gumbo, pot pie, stock, noodle soup, turkey salad, enchiladas - pretty much any dish I could turkey-ize. And why, yes, turkey-izing is a real process. I'm so over the bird.

3. Waking up in the middle of the night and consuming large amounts of caffeine on an empty stomach only serves to make you want to puke your guts out by about 8 a.m.ish. A gigantic breakfast burrito can cure this.

4. People who shop at Walmart are crazy. I had an inkling about this prior to Black Friday but am now a true believer. (And no, I am not on the shop at Walmart list, I went for a friend. Oh, and there is totally an official list.) You should see the way these people went ballistic over those 3 dollar pajamas.

5. The people that WORK at Walmart are way effin' crazier than the ones who shop there. It's like they got a batch of local carnies to work the Black Friday sale. If I had a dime for every time one of them said, "YOU CANNOT TOUCH THAT UNTIL 5 A.M.!" I would be as rich as Sam Walton himself. Well, as his family. RIP, old Sammy!

I better stop at 5 on this list too. Two lists in one post? Holy shit, no more list posts for a while. Hold me to it. I've almost managed to annoy myself.

Ode to Caillou

I NEVER, in a million years, thought I'd say this but I kinda miss Caillou. As you may or may not know, I detest Caillou. Every ounce of his whiny little bald body. Hell, I even belong to the "STFU Caillou" group on Facebook (who knew?) Not that I can't just turn him on any old time I want to but the resident little boy in this house has moved on.

He has moved on to BIG BOY movies and shows - Transformers, Pirates of the Caribbean, Star Wars, etc... When did this happen? As much as I'd love to blame my Hubby for this exposure, I am sure it was just a matter of time. He is growing up! And really, who can argue with this:

Me: How come you don't want to watch Caillou, he's four just like you? (This was painful, it really was, but after watching Pirates of the Caribbean a million times, I needed a break and for some reason that dweebie little Caillou came to mind.)

Kiddo: I don't really like Caillou's parents.

Me: What's wrong with Caillou's parents?!?!?!?

Kiddo: Well, they are bossy and tell him what to do.

Me: How come you always want to watch Pirates of the Caribbean?

Kiddo: Because, I wanna be a pirate.

Me: Why do you want to be a pirate?

Kiddo: Pirates don't really have rules or parents bossing them around. And if you're four, parents boss you around, but not if you're a pirate.

And there you have it. Let the testosterone games begin! I'm only hanging on by a Dinosaur Train thread at this point. He's four going on twelve, with delusions of grandeur, living in a dreamworld where parents and rules don't exist. How did we get here? I wasn't ready for this.

How come stuff like this isn't addressed on Caillou episodes? Caillou never wants to watch Transformers or talks back. He's too busy sharing his toys with his friends, listening to his parents, being nice to his baby sister and kissing his teacher's butt. I bet Caillou slept through the night from birth and has never so much as ventured out of his room in the middle of night, let alone climbed into his parents bed. Caillou probably washes dishes and does laundry already. Brushes and flosses his teeth without being asked 500 times before it actually happens. Caillou's room is probably immaculate.

Nevermind, I take it all back. I don't miss Caillou. I still can't stand that little jerk. Besides, Johnny Depp as a pirate is pretty easy on the eyes.

Support a Fellow Blogger

When I first started this blog, I had no idea how big or how interwoven the blogging community was - specifically the Mom Bloggers. I was also not on Twitter in the beginning - that is really where I realized this. As you begin to read and follow different blogs, you make friends and you begin to really look forward to reading some other blogs. You begin to follow stories, lives. Particularly touching are the stories involving children and tragedy. You may not know these people, but you certainly know motherhood and understand family. Twitter has provided a great service that allows bloggers to keep up with one another on a daily basis, albeit in short sentences. It doesn't matter that they may be half way around the world, you begin to enjoy exchanging comments or tweets with the. You just hope that they are lighthearted. But bloggers pull together, they really do. To send prayers, messages, display banners, whatever it is.

This past week, through Twitter, I learned that the Mom Blogging world has been touched by another unfortunate situation. Anissa Mayhew of Aiming Low, Hope 4 Peyton and Free Anissa suffered a massive stroke. And then another one. She is the mother of three young children, the youngest of whom is fighting ALL Leukemia. From what I understand, she is still in an ICU unit and unconscious, however, there are glimpses that she is fighting this and reacting through baby steps - trying to open eyes, reach, etc...

My thoughts, prayers and heart go out to this family. I ask that you keep them in your thoughts and prayers as well. If you are so inclined, please visit Hope 4 Peyton and leave her family a message. If you can and would like to help monetarily, please visit Aiming Low (I am working on getting the Paypal link here, but the HTML isn't working for me right now.)

Remember, life is precious - tomorrow is not promised to any of us.

Black Friday Virgin

So there's this big hoopla over Black Friday, the major shopping day right after Thanksgiving. In all my years and as one who loves shopping, you might find it hard to believe that I have never been before. I may have gone shopping on that particular day but not with fortitude. I certainly wasn't waking up to be anywhere at 5 a.m. (There's not really much that would make me get up at 5 a.m.)

So this year, I am losing my Black Friday virginity all for a three dollar toaster. Word on the street is that a certain store (think bullseye) has advertised a few kitchen appliances for three bucks. And since that million dollar toaster in my kitchen now only toasts one side of the bread, the time has arrived. Really, my girlfriend has begged me to go. At first I told her she was crazier than a crack whore on 3rd Street if she thought I was gonna be getting up at that ungodly hour. But after much thought and realizing that I had cancelled my weekend trip and I didn't really have anything to do at 5 a.m on the Friday after Thanksgiving anyway, I conceded. I told her I would go. There's like 4 of us going now. There is promise of coffee. I figured with all those factors, there would be good times. I'm all about good times.

The barista at that certain red bullseye store (I figure if I don't mention the name, I will not be tempted to go there right now) told me yesterday that people camp out after Thanksgiving dinner! What? Are they crazy? The last thing I am doing after a good meal is sleeping in a cold parking lot. Does that really get you in earlier? This isn't 1988 and these aren't New Kids on the Block tickets, after all. Oh, and there was mention of women fighting over Barbie Dolls. Really? I really don't envision myself coming to blows over a plastic dinosaur for my son. Grown people really do this? I lived through the Cabbage Patch Doll shortage crisis and yet still find thing unfathomable. I'm pretty sure I would just tell my son that he could wait for New Year's Panda to bring the toy.

Oh, and New Year's Panda? When I was pregnant, the Hubby got a Daddy Book and it advised of this mythical creature. New Year's Panda hits all the after Christmas clearance sales and brings gifts to children all over the world... Bet you didn't know that did ya? New Year's Panda is a much loved creature at our house!

Anyway, I have like one week to bail on this outing. I probably won't though, 'cause I'll do anything once. I will probably be a raging bitch by two o'clock that day but the participating parties have been warned.

So, do you partake in this event? Do you have any words of advice? Am I crazy for agreeing to this?

Giving Thanks

November. Sweet November. This is the month of Thanksgiving. A holiday that is usually very overlooked since it follows Halloween and precedes Christmas, two of the biggest commercial holidays. I like Thanksgiving. There are no presents to buy. Only food to make and eat and lots of sitting around time. Definitely a holiday right up my alley.

I've been spending too much time on that social networking site (rhymes with pace look) and noticing that many status updates this month are devoted to what people are thankful for each day. I think they are interesting to read but I lack the discipline to update a status everyday with the same thing for a month. (I lack the discipline pretty much to do anything other than shop, cook and go to Starbucks everyday in any given month, just an FYI.) But lest you think I am completely lazy and useless tool, I have been making a mental list of things I'm thankful for.

Naturally, I'm thankful for the obvious - family, friends, food, shelter, clothing - ALL THAT. But what about the stuff that you're thankful for that maybe doesn't get talked about all that much? Don't those things have a place? For instance, I am thankful for the following:

Mojitos - I love a good mojito. They take the edge off. If you have enough of them, hell, you'll take everything off. I find that by making these at home, my son is not quite as loud and much easier to ignore. (Please also include shots of Vodka here.)

Text Messaging - If I could never talk on the phone another day in my life, I would be the happiest person on earth. As much time as I spent on the phone as a teenager, you'd think it was very odd that I HATE the phone. Text messaging, however, is the best thing that ever happened to my communication world. Short, concise and immediate. I can literally plan my whole life via text messages and I love it. So people, don't call me - T-E-X-T. (There is like one person on my 'okay to call me' list and you know who you are.)

Target - I can't even tell you how much I appreciate Target. Wait, I can tell you - I'm there pretty much every friggin' day, THAT'S how much I appreciate the damn place. I love, love, love the fact that I can get whatever I need at Target. I've had a love affair with Target ever since my grandparents started taking me there as a child. This wondrous place that had something for everyone! I went into my Target today and saddled up to the Starbucks counter as I usually do, and the guy said, "Hey, you having your regular?" That is how much I am at Target. It's sad, but true. I can waste hours in that place and come outa there with a bunch of shit I did not even know I needed. (Amazing how that happens.) And I will totally be there at the ass crack of dawn on Black Friday to get my $3 toaster, don't you worry!

Starbucks - This is obvious, right? So I'm not a coffee drinker really. And yes, I realize it's a big waste of money, I do, I do. But, it's my vice. And the whole 'make it at home' thing is good, and I do that, BUT nothing tastes like an iced white mocha from Starbucks and really, I've tried every at home variation of this. I'm not even saying theirs is the best, it's just theirs. It's like if you want Kraft Mac-n-cheese. Is homemade better? Of course, but if you want the Kraft stuff in the blue box, THAT'S what you want. Ya feel me?

Children's Television - Yeah, I said it. We do try and limit the kid's TV time and as much as I bitch about Caillou (I totally detest him for the record), I will turn his little whimpering ass on in a heartbeat if my kid is driving me up the friggin' wall. You bet your sweet ass I will. I'm not even the least bit afraid to admit that I plug my kid right in if I cannot stand listening to him for one more minute. Now, if I could figure out a way for him to just watch the show and not narrate and ask me questions about it 24/7, we would be in business. Sprout, Noggin, Discovery Kids - I'm all over these like flies on shit.

iPhone - This is the best device I never needed. The amount of time I waste on my iPhone, using it of course, for everything BUT a phone, is ridiculous. REALLY ridiculous. This thing keeps me plugged into all things technology at all times. Which is totally unnecessary. Totally. But oh, how I love it. Oh, and it totally keeps my child occupied wherever we go - the car, the store, the restaurant. I would drop $400 for that feature alone....

Food TV/Food Blogs/Cookbooks - I am a recipe whore. I love all things food. I love to read about, watch things about it, cook, eat - anything. I love it's diversity. You can escape to anywhere in the world via food. And naturally, I'm always looking to escape.

Uggs - Yes, my boots. They might be hideous and I get that they don't go with every outfit (although, you can make that work out in the winter) but these are clearly my most comfortable pair of shoes. They don't make my feet hurt. They are soft. They are like walking on clouds. Okay, that was just a bad, cheesy analogy but I really need you to understand this. Oh, and they have to be Uggs. Say what you will about the off brand type, there is nothing like real Uggs. I have a similar pair of boots made by Coach and they cannot compare to my Uggs. I would sleep in my Uggs if that wasn't a stupid idea.

Preschool - MWF the kid is there from like 9 or 10 'til like 1, 3 if I choose to leave him there for a nap. I don't think this warrants any further explanation. Obviously.

Reality TV - These shows make me feel better about about myself daily. I can watch any number of these shows for like 5 minutes and have my self-confidence shoot through the roof. Two minutes into Wife Swap and I'm June Cleaver, baby!

Elastic Waist Bands - Namely on leggings and sweats. Please see above about me loving food. Thus, the elastic waist band thing will make perfect sense to you.

Anyway, that's my short list, I'm sure I'll come back with more. I'm not really as shallow and pretentious as this list makes me out to be. Really, I'm not.

Oh, the Guilt

So the whole 'yelling is the new spanking' thing totally got me thinking about all the guilt that comes with parenting that nobody ever tells you about.

Like most first time moms, I was as prepared for the birth of my son as one could be. Obviously, childbirth is something that you can only comprehend once you go through it, not really a moment before. Being the overachievers that we are, we had a birth plan, which I'm pretty sure was thrown out the window by the staff immediately upon receipt. An emergency c-section was not in the plan, however. After almost 22 hours of back labor (which totally sucks, btw) I underwent an emergency c-section because my son was in distress. It was like 20 minutes from them saying it needed to happen to my son being here. It all happened so fast, I didn't have time to freak out. Once he was here, happy and healthy, the breast feeding stint began. Breast feeding was a rough road for us, despite sticking it out as long as possible. Supply issues, a starving child, you name it.

I can't remember the exact time line, but it was in the early weeks, sometime after we first brought him home. Although I was tired and sore and he never slept, I was holding up fairly well. Then, out of nowhere, I just freaked out. I was overcome with this tremendous guilt that I was not able to have him naturally and that breast feeding was a miserable experience. I remember, trying to explain this to my husband, through vast amounts of tears. All these things that were supposed to be so "natural" were not happening for me. What was wrong with me? My body? How could millions of women before me function just fine and have a vaginal birth and breast feed with no problem? I couldn't grasp this. Never mind that my son was completely happy and healthy, right? I've since recovered and think this is ridiculous now and pretty much haven't felt guilty about anything else I've done as a parent.

Fast forward to almost 6 months ago.... my girlfriend, New Mommy, had just had her first child. He was due in for his first well check and she was freaking out. Breast feeding wasn't happening at her house either. She was miserable, the baby was miserable. She was petrified to go to her pediatrician for fear of getting ridiculed for wanting to formula feed. She was scared of being labeled the worst Mommy in the world and just didn't want to face this. I totally felt her pain. I calmly told her that she was a great mom, doing what she needed to do for her child.

Nobody ever really prepares you for the guilt. The guilt of having a c-section. The guilt of not breast feeding. The guilt of vaccinating/not vaccinating your child. The guilt for circumcising/not circumcising your boy. The guilt for co-sleeping/crying it out. The guilt of feeding your kid solids too early/too late. The guilt of potty training your child too early/too late. The guilt of working/daycare. The guilt for whatever punishment you choose to use with your own children. The guilt. The guilt. The GUILT!

At first I thought all this guilt was self-imposed but as I talk to more and more Moms, they feel it too. From being ridiculed in Mom's groups for how you do A, B and C with your own child to being coerced by pediatricians, nurses, lactation specialists into doing some things you might not want to do. At what point do we as women, as mothers, stop judging and just support?

In all honesty, I don't care too much about what goes on in my Mommy friend's homes. (Obviously, abuse and neglect would be a different story.) Why should it matter to me if Debbie chooses to formula feed? Who cares if Tina wants to co-sleep with her child until the kid goes to college? Does it matter if Lisa feeds her kids sweet potatoes at 4 months instead of 6 months? Do any of these things change my life or what I do with my child in my own home? The answer is a resounding NO. I think it's great to discuss these types of things with your girlfriends because in some instances, it provides a lot of insight and can make you see things from a different perspective. But, I have no interest in being friends with women who judge me because I chose the Baby Bjorn over the sling. The sling didn't work for us - why should that matter to anyone else? I find that with each stage of life my son goes through, there is something new that people try to make you feel guilty about. (Currently, this is the booster seat vs. a 5 point harness thing - hot topic at preschool.)

I think people lose sight of the fact that they are not the first mothers on the planet. Women have been mothering forever. Ultimately, you do what you need to do for your family. Right?!?!?! I'm pretty sure my mom did every no-no in the new, ever-changing Official Mommy Guidelines and I've managed to live to age 35 .

Going to find some wood to knock on, check ya later!

Tribute to Our Vets

Thank you for your service!

Yelling is the New Spanking

This was the headline on the news at the gym the other morning. If I had cared enough to actually listen to it, I would have watched the whole interview with whatever Dr. Spock expert they had on. But, ummmm I didn't. Probably because I was too busy gathering up the eyeballs that had just rolled out of my head.

My point of this post is in no way to debate spanking as a form of punishment. I realize that this is kind of a "Mommy blog" and that the whole issue of spanking is a hot topic in the parenting world. I have certainly had my fair share of debates about this topic. I will say that I was spanked as a child (although my mom was more of just a 'hit you wherever my hand lands first' type of 'spanker') and I turned out just fine. Well, there's that little twitch but you know, mostly I get by...

I will totally admit to yelling at my kid though, er excuse me, raising my voice. I believe I have even documented proof in a previous post, stating that yelling was the new talking at our house. Oh, and I have the most uber sensitive kid in the world. He cries Barry Manilow tunes, I swear to God. Anyhoo, I can't really get behind this whole yelling is the new spanking movement. Don't get me wrong, I don't just go around randomly yelling at my poor kid, but when he answers the door by himself, especially if I am naked and cleaning the bathroom at the time, he is getting yelled at. If he is still doing something I asked him not to do 50 times in a nice, calm voice, chances are, he is gonna get yelled at. Is this so wrong? My dad was a yeller and honestly, his yelling didn't bother me, it was more the bullshit that spewed out of his mouth that was bothersome and scarred me for life. I don't really see how scolding my child, by yelling, because he wandered off or touched the hot stove (examples because obviously, my little angel would never commit such crimes) is going to scar him for life.

I'm going to be thirtysomething in a month and I don't remember the last time that my life was all candy and roses. Are we really doing our children a service by padding and protecting the world they live in so much? I came across a parenting book that said we shouldn't even send kids to their rooms because it's cruel and they will feel alienated and abandoned. (I don't think they should be sent to their room because hell, what kid wouldn't want to get sent to his room - that's where all his toys are. That's like sending a kid to Disneyland for punishment.) In life, don't we get punished for our actions, is it so bad to teach kids about consequences? Why is everything all touchy-feely now? It's like they come up with all these things to make parents feel guilty about on purpose, as if being in charge of another human being's life isn't hard enough.

Damn, time to get crackin' on this copy of, "Parenting Without Yelling."

This Bitch Walks Into the Gym...

I've officially fulfilled all of my Miss Blog America responsibilities so I'm back to normal now. (Okay, not really, but I just wanted to feel a wee bit important for half a second. Damn, that was a fast half a second.)

Anyway, I've been busting my ass at the gym three mornings a week lately. No applause please. I'm trying to lose weight from that 90 lb. baby I had almost a half a decade ago. *AHEM*

As I stepped my butt of the elliptical trainer and made my way to the make-your-ass-nice machine, a VERY LOUD conversation caught my ears from two skanks on the exercise bikes:

Bitch: I saw this woman at Starbucks the other day wearing leggings and short shirt and she was disgusting. Her fat ass should not have been in those clothes, you could see all her rolls.

Bitch's Bitch: OH MY GAWD!

Bitch: I know, I can't believe people like that go out of the house, she should know better looking like that. I wonder why people don't look in the mirror.

Bitch's Bitch: I know, totally.

Bitch: I always ask women like that what that big roll is that's holding up their boobs. And then I'm all like, "Oh yeah, it's your stomach." It's so disgusting.

Bitch's Bitch: Really!

Okay, this conversation was HELLA LOUD. In a gym. A place where people are there trying to better themselves and their health. People should not have to be subjected to this while working out. It never ceases to amaze me how cruel women are to one another. For a split second, I almost started to say something to her but then realized that I would probably end up on death row for murder after I smashed a free weight through her surgery constructed face.

The best part is that these bitches actually had matching mini cheetah print backpacks with pink princess crown key rings attached. I then realized that I didn't need to say shit to them because their existence is way sadder than I had thought. Zero percent body fat can't prevent ugly from oozing out of people like this. Oh and plastic surgery can't fix that kinda ugly either.