Thursday, April 3, 2014

Riled up and maybe Derailed

So, has anyone else noticed how whiny we've become?  Like, we love to dramatize and complain about our children....a lot.  Blogs/writers/authors are making a living out of it.  The snarkier and more irreverent the better.  I mean, I get the commiseration piece, we're all in the same boat, but, the cost seems high to me.

I have to say that I am a little bit tired of reading the parent blogs out there that are written in a cynical and sarcastic tone, aimed at writing about their "real experience" of parenting.  The mundane.  The daily.  Their tone seems to be getting whinier, more impatient, entitled and quite honestly disrespectful of their children.  It's become so commonplace and truly a societal norm to rag on your kids, and your experience that we don't even bat an eyelash when someone says or writes it.   Bitching and sighing and huffing and puffing has become our knee jerk response. Insidious, really.  The wallowing and woe-is-me attitude is getting trite.  Can you just envision our parents, our aunts, or grandmothers constantly kvetching about how hard it is and how much trouble it all is. 


Also, our judgement of others astounds me.  You want to fuck around on pinterest and give your kid an awesome *insert whatever here*, go, do! I can't wait to partake.  If you don't want to do that, go, don't.  You want to elf on the shelf?  great.  You don't?  great. You co-sleep? great. You cried it out with them? great.  Not happy with being a stay at home mom, get a part time job.  Not happy being a full time employee, tweak schedule.  Make choices and commit.   Onward.

Does. it. work. for. you and your family (not being contingent on what Sally or Susan are doing)?  Great. I call this "assured parenting", notice I didn't say  "correct parenting", or "perfect parenting".  We're doing the best we can.

Parenting can feel like the abyss at times, right? right.  Short of drop kicking your child, starving your child, selling your child on craigslist, or having sex with your child, you're probably doing an ok job at parenting and I wouldn't dream of getting involved.

I believe what a child needs from us is unconditional love/safety/security/support/boundaries AND OUR PRESENCE.  An example of this is the time our wee family went to Oahu.  Amazing trip.  All sorts of activities, fun for all.  Snorkeling, surfing, eating (not too much because its too expensive), etc, etc, etc.


About after a month upon returning form our trip, my 5 year old is in the back seat of my car and I see her sorta sullen.  I ask her what's up and what she was thinking about.  She says "oh, I was daydreaming about Hawaii".  I assumed she was daydreaming of the beach, the stuff and the beauty of it all.  I said "what about Hawaii are you thinking about"?  She says "the pool.  And that little room".  "That little room"?, I ask.  "Yes, the room all four of us were together in.  It was so much fun."  I nearly cried.  What my daughter had remembered and was feeling nostalgic about was the time we had spent together.  Unencumbered, present, and focused on each other.  It was a real eye opener for us.

As a marriage and family therapist, I've seen my share of families.  When a couple has brought in their 16 year old to get "fixed", I always say "First off, Congratulations, you have a teenager". AND I say "what sort of discipline/boundaries did you have in place when they were 6 years old?  how about 16 months old"?  Meaning, that parenting begins instantly. 


But wait.   Is parenting hard?  Fuck yes it is!  It should be.

We sometimes act like we'd signed up for this though.....



Listen, we are raising beings.  Guiding characters.  Modeling behaviors.  We're demonstrating resilience, vigor, gratitude, how we're fallible, kindness, grace and acceptance.  

All of this suffice it to say that I believe we don't need to sugar coat and romanticize parenting (please, no), but, lets also rethink the way we communicate the bitch sessions.  Our children hear us.  They can feel it from us. 


You may or may not agree with me (and that is totally ok), but, alas, it's my space to write my thoughts.  Get your free blog at blogspot.com and go buck wild, mate.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Shoelogy





RIP Woven Wedges- Another "Sole" Mate

How long did we know each other? 2 years? 3?  You know, it doesn't even matter.  You meant the world to me, you were my go-to shoes when I wanted to-go. My "flip flops". My version of birkenstocks.  When in doubt, I'd throw you on and you'd pull any outfit together, instantly.  You made my calves look their best.   You were aces in my book.  When I needed height.....you were there.  When I needed a touch of floral print....you were there.  When I needed casual....you were there.  When I needed flair....you were there. When I had a great pedicure....you were there.  When I needed to run to the mail/outside/grocery store/lunch/dinner/school pick up and drop off/beach/pool/mall......you. were. there.  

Don't get me wrong, I know we always didn't see eye to eye.  You didn't always want to be my fave.  I'd sometimes see your trepidation in my choosing of you, my dearest wedge.  I saw you thinking "but, I don't match with what you're wearing"! and/or "your toes are toe' up, please wear closed toed shoes", and/or "me? again?".  I know you were teased and taunted by jealous other shoes in the closet. "Goody goody two shoes" they'd say.  That red stilletto, the bully, would hauntingly whisper "waiting for the other shoe to drop".  Or those bitchy black wedges would whine "you think you're always a shoe-in".    Don't think I didn't know, and I'm sorry I had to put you in that predicament.  No shoe wants to be THAT shoe.  
You brave little sole. 

I've never been as sorry as our last days together though.   I will always cherish our last outing, hiking in Hawaii.  How you balanced on those rocks, held me high above the surf, how you allowed me to be fashionable amidst flip flopped folks.  How you were you and we were us.




 I feel guilty, I do.  Had I not pushed that last step to see the damn crab, had I not tried to climb higher to get a glimpse of the sunset, had I just been more considerate, you may be still be around.  You gave your life for me....for my ankle.  I took a rare misstep and you held me together at your expense.  When I heard that *snap* and *crrrunch*, I knew.  My heart sank.  My feet cried.  I held the tears in.  I knew you were done.  I knew we....were done.


(I can barely look at this picture).


Sigh.  I miss you, already.  I went to get dressed today and went to grab you and you weren't there.   It hasn't even been three days and I miss you.  So farewell my friend, I bid you adieu.

We'll always have Hawaii.  Mahalo, Friend. 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Summer lovin' happened so faaaast...



Something interesting happened to me today.  I realized how I have somehow stepped over a new threshold of mother/parenthood.  A new world, it seems.  Something that I hadn't truly noticed that had happened because it seemed so gradual and so sloooooow moving. 



The last two days, I've been taking the girls to organized play places, like the ones where you pay admission to go to and you go bring snacks, a change of clothes, diaper bag, cameras, and your fellow 'mom' friends.  I haven't done this in a long time because even though I have young(ish) children, they're both in school now, so our weekday mornings aren't left to our imagination anymore.  It's all cool, the girls are so happy while learning and flourishing at school versus just at home. In the summer, its a different story and the city is once again our play place.  It's been fun to check out our old stomping grounds and find new spots. 



What I observed in myself AND in others was eye opening.  The mom that I am today as one of a 7 & 5 year old is markedly different than the mom I was when the girls were 2 & 0 or 3 & 1 or even 4 & 2.  I remembered today who that person was.  I saw (old) me in them.   The doe eyed, anxious, casually dressed, booger cleaning, snack packing, diaper checking, milestone comparing, hooter hiding, recipe exchanging, baby chasing, nap time lusting, and morning time activity filler.   I mean, I've written entries upon entries about these experiences.....mommy dating, potty training, nursing, spitting up, play dates good, play dates not-so-good, goofy stories (Oh wait, I still do that ), pictures pictures and more pictures. What I noticed was that I had blogged about these new experiences voraciously early on and I couldn't wait to share the next experience/interpretation of what it was like to have two small children in the world.  It was so new to me, so mind blowing.  I've done a ton of stuff it my life, experienced a lot, been open to life and the world and people.  Unafraid and brave of all that this life had to offer.


Having children and staying at home with them was the most (hands down) humbling experience ever.  Brought my ass to its knees.


What I've noticed throughout the years is that the blogging has dwindled (as we got busier, as THEY got busier) and the posts became more about me and how I could focus on that "me". The dawn has broken, my friends.  I am now thinking about returning to me.  Back to Barbie.  Albeit an eternally changed (and ever changing) Barbie, but, Barbie nonetheless.  I can enjoy my girls, fully.  I don't have to worry about trivial bodily functions as much.  I know they can hold their pee if need be, I know they can have a snack from CVS in a pinch and I know that they are fully aware what either taking away a privilege or time out really means.  I also am deeply aware that this is when things start to slip past you.  This is what people say when they used to tell me (which I hated EVERY TIME SOMEONE TOLD ME), "it goes by like a blink of an eye".  It feels like (get ready for an old time reference which if you get, you're my pal forever) I've been pushing my volkswagon bug to get it to a speed where you can just jump in and put it into second gear.  It just starts to go.....ignites....starts to drive...on its own.  This is where I feel I am at right now.  So many years of pushing the VW, and I've just put it into second gear.

 So, I leave this blog post saying (to myself, mostly) to ENJOY, ENJOY, ENJOY and SAVOR and ENJOY this time in my parenting life, where I can come up for air.  Where I don't feel like I'm in the trenches so much.  Where I can appreciate where I've come from and where we're headed.  I know that there is another hard part to come.  I know this.  Teenage angst and rebellion and just plain 'being' is a difficult (and developmentally appropriate and necessary) age to be a part of, as the person going through it or as the parent.


As a Miamian, I'd like to compare this time to the eye of the hurricane.  As anyone who has been involved in the magnitude that is a hurricane knows that there are three parts to it.  As it passes over you, it has the first part, the storm, the water, rain, sounds, sights, scary, new.  Then the second part, as the eye passes over you.  Quiet, clear, calm, but temporary.  The third part is the other side of the hurricane, similar to the first.  Storm, water, rain. 



Enjoy the ride, stock up on supplies as best you can and know that all of it is a gift. 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Rio...Rio....Ri-ouch!!!



So, I'm laughing at a few things here.  1. the fact that my friend had to tell me to blog about this and I was like "oh, yeah, this isn't normal", and 2. that I apparently adore all that is multi-tasking.  Now,  I don't say this as a braggart, but, more like a revelation to me (yet again....I know I've blogged about this before).  As a parent mother (woman) you tend to use that beautifully large corpus callosum to its fullest....we women conceptualize differently, communicate differently, do most things....differently than men. Without getting too nerdy -when it comes to women - the corpus callosum, the white matter tract, connecting the two brain hemispheres, allowing our intercommunication - is much wider.  Don't send me emails asking me to prove this research, look it up yourself.  And (as an aside) it has been a subject of debate in the scientific and lay communities for over a century, soooo, just roll with it for my blog post :)

While your amazing husband/partner can tend to ONE thing really well, you can do 8 at an 80% (A solid grade of a B). 


So......while your husband excels at things like...........



and this......




and this......




and this......




and really showing off during Stanley cup.....doing this....




You're doing everything else :)



Back to impetus for blog post.

I've gotten my eyebrows waxed while Moby wearing my newborn on my chest, I've breastfed a baby while pooping, yes, pooping, I've changed a newborn baby's diaper with one hand...in the dark, I have finagled left, right and center with the two I heart. It's always out of necessity, not truly a preference.  Apparently, my skills are transferable.  Today trumped it all.

I was on a conference call in which I actively participate in......while intermittently hitting the mute button.......while I was getting a laser hair removal treatment.  A Brazilian.  

I'm going to just leave it at that, not elaborate any further. 

What I was reminded of?  Baby need not be present for the mad skills :) 

No pictures of any of this because well, as you mommas know.....no one takes pictures of us! Well, certainly not during a Brazilian....that'd be creepy.









Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Sister Summer Stints

School has been out for a week and half and we're having a grand ol' time!  Everything is more relaxed, more fun and less stressed.  We haven't hit a lot of our summer list yet, but, there's time.  My brazen two are open for new adventures and honestly, so am I.  I *just* bought an archery groupon (see last entry) and we'll be doing that next week!!   Oh and weirdos out there, don't steal my pictures, k?  Thanks :)

Sidewalk Scarfing




almost Swimming




Stylish Skating




Specific Snacking


 Spent Swinging


Shooting the.....breeze




 Slurping (on opposite day, its a tea party)






Scholarly Studying





Cinematic Surveying




Stringing and Strategizing





 Standing Stripes





 Stenciling & Socializing




Snarling doggy Superstructures





Striking a Spirited pose (Go Astros!!)


  


I'm sapped.

Set off and Savor your Summer!!!!!

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Reason #46 why groupons rock

First, please, watch a minute or two of this....



Now, doesn't that make you go "WHOA"!!!  "Awesome"!!  "I'm buying the next groupon I see!!!!"??

Omgosh,  Me. Too.   In fact that is exactly what I went and did.  Bought a g-pon for parkour.  Oh you don't know what parkour is?  You think its practicing occultists or sorcery on your screen, don't you?  Well, this is what is called Parkour or l'art du d├ęplacement.   "Practitioners aim to move quickly and efficiently through their environment using only their bodies and their surroundings to propel themselves, negotiating obstacles in between. Parkour is non-competitive. It may be performed on an obstacle course, but is usually practiced in a creative (and sometimes playful) reinterpretation or subversion of urban spaces. Parkour involves 'seeing' one's environment in a new way, and imagining the potentialities for movement around it". Thanks Wikipedia, (what DID we do before Wikipedia.....oh yeah, I remember the Encyclopedia Brittanica).


So, I bought it, registered, signed the waiver (that seemed to say "if I bust my ass, I relinquish any right to a lawsuit because.....well, sorry, there really shouldn't be an IF, you will bust it"), made a reservation for an outdoor class in our beautiful downtown and went on my merry way to z class (my fake french accent for Parfaux).  I was early, had all of my documents scanned and emailed to the instructor, had my workout wear.  Dude, I was ready to bust my ass do this!  I wanted to leap tall buildings in a single bound, I wanted to creep up the side of railings like a cat or play leap frog with cement.

As soon as the class began I knew that I would NEVER, EVER, be able to do any of that.  Like, never. Ever.  Had I started training in my mother's amniotic fluid then maybe and then just a big maybe.   The funny part to me was that I did not hurt myself.  I mean, I wasn't even good enough to hurt myself....are you understanding me???? Like, my movements were like a record on 33 rpms, so it never got dangerous or anything.  I was moving like a snail.    The instructors were incredibly patient and awesome and I had a great ass time.  I really loved it. I was actually looking forward to the next outdoor class!  It was fun and different and got my body moving differently than usual.  I waved au revoir to my new friends and took my sweaty, yet super giddy self home to tell Michael all about it.

The next day, I went to the park to walk.  My friend didn't show up so I was on the trail by myself. I saw this bench calling my name.  I was going to practice what I had learned, on that lonesome bench.  I had this. 

Cue in the ass busting.

Oh my god.  ouch.  I managed to scrape/bang/bruise/wallop my right shin on some new move tomfoolery. I could barely walk the rest of the way to the car.  What a dummy, I was.  Typical day in the life of me, though.  Thinking I can master something, INSTANTLY.  Wrong, once again, Babs.

 I needed these for a couple of days



and I couldn't even shave over the patch of red/black/yellow.  It was all just a big misunderstanding between my leg and the bench.

Anyhow, that was a whole month ago and I am now healed and ready to go back to the class.  I am, however, going to finish out my groupon and go back to the safety of my.........







Thanks,
Barbie

Monday, June 10, 2013

Bar-b 101




My percent chemical composition breakdown...........

20%     C8-H10-N4-02 (coffee)

20%     C6-H1-206 (glucose and fructose) + 
            C2-H5-OH (Ethanol)    

5%       H20

35%     A-W-E-S-O-M-E

20%     80's commercial jingles

Friday, June 7, 2013

Momma Moody and the not so bummer Summer

So, it's SUMMER BREAK over here!!!  Yes, the girls' last day of school was yesterday and boy are we all happy.  Lazy mornings, no strict routines, being able to watch Kitchen Nightmares together at night, basically just all around good and relaxed time.  I ASSumed my daughters would be dialed in to this feeling this morning.  Well, they were, SUN dialed in.  Those little jerks girls that I heart were all up in my business at 6:57am this morning.  Apparently, in my haste, I had not CC'd them on the Leisurely Summer memo and hadn't filled their chill pill Rx in time (same Rx and memo that I always forget on Weekends).  Not only were they in my bedroom at this time, but, Athena had already compiled what they wanted their summer to look like.  As you may remember from last year (wait, maybe I didn't blog about it...ooops...shoulda) Athena's list (when she was 6) included 12 things, some were things like 1. learning a new language that uses symbols like Chinese, 2. reading the bible. the whole thing, 3. learning how to make a french braid, and 4. watching the entire Thriller video. The whole thing.  We did about half of the list last year.  None of the things mentioned, but, the other more attainable things like go swimming, go visit North Carolina, go ice skating.

Now, the list this year seemed more reasonable.  Including things like going fishing, learning the words to a song and performing it, and eating a dish from a different country everyday.  The ONE thing that seems to have carried over from last summer to this summer was the Thriller video watching.  She had this illustration at the end of her list.............


I asked her what she was doing in the picture, she said "watching the video and there is super glue underneath my butt so that I do not get up from the chair".

Saylor's list included having dance parties, going to Hawaii, eating at Crave cupcakes every MWF, and having a lot of playdates "that you always promise but we never do" with friends.

Ladies and gentlemen, I actually did wake up jazzed for Summer, gotta tell you.   I immediately wanted to do something not on the list. We've toyed with the idea of going blackberry picking at some point.  We'd missed it twice before before of timing.  One time we'd driven ONE HOUR to the strawberry fields and they were EMPTY and the fields were barren and had all been picked.  The owner was all "you shoulda called" and I was all "yeah".

Anyhow, luckily both of my girls go with the flow, so they were stoked after I CALLED and the blackberries were ready for us to go pick them..  I mean, we go to farmer's markets all of the time and joined a co-op (THIS one) so they understand the role/function of the supermarket and what it all means.  It seemed (like everything else) like a teachable moment, I wanted them to actually see what a farm looks like and how it feels to pick fresh fruit and how differently it tastes.   And so that's what we did. We headed out to a local farm that was about 40 min away from our house.  We arrived and other gung ho families were there getting their blackberry pickin' on.  There was a system that the owner/farmer had created and it seemed to work well for us.  Instructions given, buckets handed out and sunscreen applied.  We. were. doing this.





After....mmm.....12 minutes...we'd had our fair share (pun intended) of blackberry fun.  It was hot, not many were actually ripe enough for picking, and there were Texas sized hornets and beetles and insects.  It was really fun though.  It was great to be amidst nature and watching the girls get excited when they picked a nice, dark, ripened, juicy, succulent berry.  We saw the blackberry flower, then the green bud and then the pink/red berry and finally the ripened blackberry.





So, all in all, it was fun!  It was 40 minutes there, 40 minutes there, 40 minutes back.   Our first two hours of summer vacation, done!

Now, off to our Japan inspired lunch.   Day one, half way done, just 80 more to go :)   



Friday, May 31, 2013

Ease on down, ease on down the roooooad

So, I'm into music.  All types.  As long as there is musicality in it, I'm good.  I'm especially into metal.  So much so, I call myself a fancy metal head (isn't that cute?).  My husband is the one who turned me on to it years ago, so we'll call him Mr. Fancy Metal Head.  List that we enjoy.....Alternative metal, Death metal, Christian metal (that I may comically call Resurrection Metal.  JC, don't be angry, you gave me this humor), sludge metal, industrial metal and  finally the ironic mathcore metal (ironic in that the actuary  in the family ((and his fancy wife)) listen to it).  I mean Math Metal?  It is a rhythmically complex and dissonant style of metalcore. Both math rock and mathcore make use of unusual time signatures.  We're actually going to a concert tomorrow night of a band called Killswitch Engage.  Doesn't that sound fun? :)

This post is sooooo not about Metal though.

It's about me driving to the jiffy lube in my car doing this ala Office Space

 



I got to the place for my emissions test and the music was loud and I was head pumping, steering wheel thumping, hand wavin', dropping it like it was hot (while seated, which is even hotter).  The guy (who was black, by the way) was all smiles (maybe in a ridiculing sort of way, but, I don't really care).  He said "good morning to you" and I said "and to you, kind sir" (in just that accent you read it in).  He laughed and I laughed. 


Then, as I walked past him, I saw this......



and then did what any self respecting person would do......I rubbed the tree stump for good luck!  Hello?  Showtime at the Apollo??  That man about lost his mind.  He laughed and laughed and I swear he checked out my ass to see if I had one because I HAD to be black.  Nope, flat 'ass' can be.

So, that was the beginning of my morning.  How was yours?

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Lazy.

Efficiency efficiency efficiency is my modus operandi.  I've always taken great pride in this, and still do.  Why do ONE thing at a time, when you can do THREE, right? Recall this blog post ?

Well, what I may have come to realize is that I may be, perchance, a lazy sod disguised in said 'efficiency'.

I mean, I am of the belief that if you don't ask the answer will always be NO, right?  It all started years ago when my nemesis (clean clothes in the dryer) was ridiculing me from the INSIDE of the dryer (heartless bitch, I know).  I had our fantastic babysitter come over one night.  She does a great job taking care of our children, and that is it (like she doesn't cook or clean or whatever).  As she walked into the house that night, I could hear (in a Tell Tale Heart sort of way) the taunting going on from the dryer. You'll never fold me.....wrinkles are cool.....I've been sitting here for daaayyyyssss.......your husband knows that you have dried me again and again......you're not fooling anyone.......      It was awful, and loud.  As we walked out the door of our house I pulled the sitter aside and said "please, fold my clothes and put it away. I know its not your job, but, I'll pay you an extra $5", she said "sure"! That my friends was the beginning of the end.  It fed right into my doers vs buyers mode, 'member this blog post?

Well boys and girls, I've hit a new "level of efficiency", so to speak. 

I bought this beauty....



and put it up on the kitchen counter.  I think I bitched a little at myself for buying it whole, but, I saved so much money buying it this way!  I wasn't going to get all caught up in the up selling of already cut up watermelon, what a racket.  Well, the watermelon lingered on my counter, longingly wanting to be part of one of our desserts, taken to school for lunch, or even infused in vodka (my other M.O.).  I hadn't gotten around to preparing it, cutting it, cleaning up the sticky, fructose'y mess that all of that juice would leave on my counters and probably floors.  So, it sat there.  Until, *light bulb*, I had an idea.  I had my housekeeper coming over today.  I like to leave when she arrives, so that she doesn't wonder why the hell I can't clean my own damn house.  Well, I left her a note today, next to the watermelon that read "please prepare me", well, more like "Por favor, cortar y preparar".  I wrote that note and bolted out of my house like a meth head.  The audacity.

I hope I get home and find it looking like this....


or in all honesty, like this........


Signed,
Lazy :)

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Sure beets dying



Dear Consumer,

Please refrain from crying when you see your blood tinged urine in the toilet.  It'll scare the shit out of you and make you make an appointment with your doctor.  You won't think of us because you just won't.    Don't fret though, it's just us and what we do.

Love,











 

PS- Our good friend, 











wanted us to 'pass' on a message to you too.  They'll make you think something has died in your urinary tract and you will feel as though you're expelling it through your urethra. Don't fret, it's just what they do.


PSS- Thanks and keep up the healthy eating!

And because I do what I do, here are the links to the facts about these two things Beets and Asparagus :)


Thursday, February 21, 2013

Bada Bing Badge

So, I've been buying your kids' stuff for years.  I've bought candles, flower bulbs, gift wrap, chocolate bars (with the $1 off pizza hut coupon), popcorn, magazine subscriptions, cookie dough, girl scout cookies, etc.  I've really bought it all.  I mean who doesn't, first off, like to pay retail plus plus for things and also who doesn't want to see their friend's kid win an opportunity to get a pencil or a pizza party?  Right???  Right.

So, it's MY turn.  As you know from THIS post, we're now involved in the mafia, er, cult, er club, er...Girl Scouts!  It's cookie time, y'all!  So, I was doing some math and I figured that your best bet using the CPC method (formula used was cost per cookie) for your four dollars are the Shortbread cookies, at $.10 a cookie and you're worst bet (there's a tie) is the Caramel deLites (formerly known as Samoas and MY FAVORITE) and Peanut Butter Patties at $.27 each.  Eat slowly, y'all.

In all seriousness, they ARE delicious and only sold once a year. "And are a girl-led business, where girls can develop five essential skills
  • Goal setting
  • Decision making
  • Money management
  • People skills
  • Business ethics
During cookie activities, girls are members of a team working toward a common goal, with each girl striving to do her best. Girls set cookie goals to support their chosen activities for the year, like funding community service projects, attending summer camp or even traveling. So when your local Girl Scouts come calling with this year's best-selling cookies, remember you're saying hello to tomorrow's business leaders".   Thanks, GS website!!


Now, times are a changin' though and you must keep up.



Now, you're jonesing these cookies I so deliciously sold in my post, and you don't know how to get them (obviously you're an agoraphobe and don't step foot out of your house into places like the supermarket or a church)?  No problem.   There is a girl scout cookie finder app for your iPhone.  Yep. Girl Scout Cookie Finder uses your iOS device’s GPS to track down cookies for sale around you. The app brings you listings of places you can procure Girl Scout cookies by proximity and provides addresses, phone numbers, and directions.

What did you say?  You're afraid of having left over girl scout cookies in your house? NO problem, here is a link for 10 clever recipes for girl scout cookies including this one for Grasshopper Milkshakes....





So, hit me up on facebook, or comment on this blog post so that I can get you your coveted and beloved girl scout cookies!!!

and remember..........


and of course, this little ditty I absolutely love...


Friday, February 15, 2013

I love you Beary much


So, apparently, I've become somewhat of a 'seasonal' blogger.  Holidays seem to be my bloggy muse and perfect fodder for my thoughts to paper...or screen.   Anyhow, it's Valentine's day or it was yesterday.  I was reevaluating the whole "holiday" thing in my head as I thought about what my daughters would give their classmates and what I would give my partner, Michael etc.  I thought, "damn.  another holiday I have to share with my kids"!  

Halloween is all theirs now (when I clearly ((and hazily)) remember a deliciously decadent time when it wasn't and I could wear extra slutty clothes and no one bat an eyelash.  Now, you'd be THAT mom, the one that wears the slutty clothes and that doesn't understand how *insert whiny voice here* Halloween is for kids). 

Christmas.....theirs, when once it was...totally yours.  

Even St. Patrick's Day has gone to the kids.  No more drunken debauchery, pub crawls, green beer, slutty clothes (apparent theme), etc.  Now its green food coloring added to pancakes, corned beef and cabbage IN A CROCK POT (which I never had before kids either), shamrock sugar cookies and things like this.....



Anyhow, this post was sparked by a commercial I saw and nearly died laughing.  I'm sure you've seen it before and have heard of the company.  I've never watched a commercial and thought to myself "I am NEVER buying that thing".    It was like a commercial, on opposite day. 

If I ever received this as a gift, I would be 1. scared, 2. angry that there was $100 spent on this, 3. truly befuddled by my "friend" or "husband" that bought this for me and 4. giving it away to salvation army, stat.  And scared.


Anyhow, enjoy my friends....





Please tell me what the marketers were thinking?  What would you do if given the gift of bear? 


Anyhow, we're simple at my house.  Homemade gifts and all of that stuff.  Plus, Michael and I  can't even go out on this day because I have a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C babysitters and they're all cute, young girls with boyfriends, so they're actually busy doing Valentine's Day things, that are non kid related and can't babysit for us.  Plus, we're fiscally conscious (thrifty, miserly, frugal) and think it is silly to designate this "special" day and that all of our restaurants that we usually frequent now have prix fixe menu and hand out roses, and that's annoying. 

You know what?  Gahhh-leeee. I'm writing from a weird state this morning (weirder than texas), I think I need to have my coffee and work out already so that I can be my usual cheerful, subscriber of Pollyannaism, positive self. 

I'll leave you with the awesomeness that is my husband.  He made cards for each of his girls, and bought us our favorite flavor of bundt cakes and had it all set up for us at 6:45am in the morning.  We all lingered over our beautiful and heartfelt cards and savored our bundt cake with coffee (well, not the girls :) It was a great start to our day.  I don't need no stinkin' diamonds and furs ;)    If you're reading babe, I'm just kidding.



And, then upon pick up they enjoyed their love loot, as we call it.  The girls had a wonderful time sharing what they enjoyed about each of their friends and classmates and also receiving little notes, pencils, stickers, tattoos, seed packets, fruit rope, puzzle cards, decoder cards, and 3-d cards. 




I hope your day was fun and love-filled (at least like-filled) with something chocolatey and/or pink and red and at least can get a deal on V day candy today.

Needing coffee,
Barbie :)




Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Got irony?

I don't even know what has happened.  Wtf is up with mustaches?  Like, what the fuck is up with mustaches?  Is this another ironic, hipster, "white" kid thing?   Am I not cool enough (doubt it) to "get" the mustache thing?    Everywhere I look there a gd fauxstache on something.  And you know the worst of it....THEY MAKE EVERYTHING LOOK SO CUTE!  I'm having some turmoil about this (obvi) because I'm drawn to the adorableness that is the mustache symbol, everywhere, but, I think it's stooopid.

I was at the Sanrio store, and I saw a Salutations Feline key cover with a mustache!!!!! I BOUGHT it.  It's so cute....look




Is it a throw back to the seventies, a retro move.  I can't walk into an Urban Outfitters without being assaulted by "mustachized" stuff.  I just don't get it.

This fad/trend has to be coming to an end if they have it AT POTTERY BARN, no?



Anyhow,  I'm simply curious.  Can anyone explain this to me?  The purpose?  The origin?  The end?

Thanks in advance!

Oh, and I'm keeping my hello kitty key cover :) 

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

On my honor, I will try...



So, "we've" decided to join yet another extra curricular activity.  I'm not opposed to such fun and frivolity, its just that I am as much part of these damn things as the girls are.  They're at the age that you can't just drop them off yet, and they can't drive themselves.  So, I sit through music class, I sit through ice skating lessons, I sit through swimming lessons, I sit through art class, I sit through (put whatever I've forgotten in here) and NOW, I sit through girl scouts.  I don't recall being in so many gd activities as a child.  It seemed simpler and more efficient.  I did the jazz/tap routine and some music and maybe a something else I'm forgetting.  I modeled as a kid and did some of that, and ironically enough, I was fat as a teen and didn't even think about doing a sport...ha ha ha, wait.  not that funny.    My parents both worked full time, so that might have had something to do with why I was in so few, maybe not.  Mom/Dad, if you're reading, I wasn't lacking in anything, it was the perfect amount of activities, and you guys did a great job!  Just look at me now?  Blogging and cursing.....its a beautiful thing :)

Bringing us to the issue at hand.


Girl Scouts.  Daisies, to be exact.  Now, my kids don't read my blog, and I hope yours don't either.  And, my friends will remain nameless, even though you girls know who you are :)

We (me) were apprehensive (didn't want to do it, at all) about joining GS.  They meet EVERY week in the middle of our nighttime routine and it was going to be a real hassle to get things sorted at home with the other two (husband and other child) before going to our WEEKLY meeting at the school.  I did it all for the cookie, c'mon, the cookie, c'mon


I was hesitant only because I  1. didn't want to have to do something else,    2. didn't want to continue spending money on activities and everything related to them,        3. we've got a tight ass night time routine that looks something like this....






and 4.most importantly, I don't like to tie up my evenings because I'd like to be able to attend any impromptu Tuesday happy hour invitations.  Hello?  Priorities.


Having said all of that, I bit the proverbial bullet and we totally joined.  ALL of my school mom friends joined and after the snicker about taking a flask to the meeting, I knew this group'd be a'ight. 

Bringing us back to the springboard for this blog post.  The Girl scout vest and the patches.




After purchasing all that IS Daisy, we were told to "just iron on these patches".   Easy right?  Totally, they're patches.  You iron them.  On.    I (of course) bitched about why these weren't already put on the vests since they have a very specific place on the vest.  No room for creative interpretation, so why not, offer us either the 1. the vest with stuff on it already, or 2. an upgrade option so that the patches (troop number, etc) can already be on the vest?    Remember this post? You are talking to.....this girl.


Since no one really bitched, I figured I was the only complainer/weirdo so I should take my vest home and my patches and I would "just iron on these patches".  Well, as you could probably imagine, those patches sat on my kitchen counter day in and day out. I kept saying, "I have a whole week.  A whoooole week to get these done".  Enough sarcastic foreshadowing for you?  Right, so cue in yesterday.   I met with some moms at the park and they told me how they just didn't have time to iron these things on (pfft. how could they not have time....a week was forever to "just iron these on") so they sent it to the dry cleaners and paid......TWENTY FOUR dollars to get them put on. Twenty. Four. Dollars.  I nearly passed out, and you know I'm all about paying for stuff like that.    So, I was in a tizzy.  A silly ass tizzy about the gd vest and the patches.  So, last night (night before the WEEKLY meeting), guess what?  I couldn't find the iron.  I didn't even know if I had an iron.  Why did I think I had an iron?  and for what pray tell would I have an iron?   I looked and looked and looked and looked and searched and nothing.  I could not find the iron.  I ran to CVS to buy an iron and spent $24.99 on an iron.  for the patches. I had surpassed my useless friends by $.99.  I left the store singing the words of the sage Limp Bizkit......

......Why did it take so long?
Why did I wait so long, huh
To figure it out? but I did it
And I'm the only one underneath the sun who didn't get it.....



I got home and my awesome husband had not only found our iron, but, had "just ironed on the patches".  Simple as that.  Ironed on the patches.  You're a good man, Charlie Brown.  I went back and returned the iron.  All of this is to illustrate that this just wouldn't have happened to our parents.  I don't know, they would've figured it out and not bitched as much or something.  Anyhow, it was a great eye opener to me, seriously.  What are we actually doing with our time?  Well, we'll leave that for a different post.

Next up.....how I was hoodwinked....errr...bamboozled...errrrr....nominated PTO vice president and I how I accepted.