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!!!!!

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 déplacement.   "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

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

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 :)   

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?

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 :)

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 :)

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...

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 :)

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 :) 

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. 

  

 

I may or may not have gotten looked at today like the mom on the cover of Time.  You know the one.  I mean, granted, I was not breastfeeding, but, apparently something almost as "odd".......carrying my kid.  

Now, to be fair, my "kid" is 4.  She is tall and weighs about 40 lbs.  She was feeling feverish and sick today and asked me to "wear her, in her old Saylor purse".  Of course,  I obliged.   I mean, what am I, a monster? <----------foreshadowing a bit.

Well, we were all over the house doing all sorts of things together as I wore her.  Not great for the ol' back, but it was cool when she said   "wow, I feel so cozy".    I needed to go to Costco to buy more shit for my house and she had asked me to take her "purse" with us.  Again, obliged.  "I'm sorry it hurts your back momma, but, I really want to be carried".  Again...monster?  nope.  

This is what I actually looked like

And this is what people apparently thought I was carrying in my sling.

 

Omg.  The looks that I got were hilarious.  People didn't know what to do with themselves.  They barely made eye contact, like I was wearing a name tag that said 

"Hello, My Name is Medusa".

Ha, I don't think it helped my cause that Saylor wears a size 11 running shoe, was reading (aloud) the signs at the store, and was holding a water bottle, my keys, my wallet and my phone in the sling with her....and handed me the correct AMEX to give cashier.  

The coup de gras, you ask?

I was wearing a pair of shoes that looked an awful lot like these.  

I'm telling you.....people did NOT know what to make of us.

There are the Doers and the Buyers

and never the twain shall meet.  This is the way that I categorize my mom friends...or maybe just my friend friends.  Nothing brings this more to light and the disparity between the two than good ol' halloween.  My daughter asked to be a cardinal for halloween (I quickly realized that it was not the leading dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church, nominated by the pope, but, the bird).  My first thoughts were 1. where do I buy that, 2. can I buy it off of the St. Louis Cardinals' website, 3. how much is this damn thing going to cost, 4. I need a coupon code for costume stores......and the frenetic thoughts continued. So, I'm telling my friends (here is where the divide is so apparent) and some of their eyes light up......(and their frenetic and oh-so-crafty minds begin)..."you are going to have SO much fun doing it.  well, you could get a red leotard, and you can get wings and glue feathers, yes, beautiful red feathers.  And of course you'll need tights and oh my gosh maybe a red shaggy haired wig.  Then a beak, you'll need  a beak...you can go and get ice cream cones and then have her string it to her......"   I tune out a bit, but, am marveled at them (yes, plural, more than one). I listen and look on like this

It doesn't faze them, bless their hearts, they are so awesomely passionate about it. When I tell them, "thanks (insert one of the MANY names of people that were jazzed about doing it themselves), but hell no will I be doing it myself".  I'm buying that bitch. 

After their

                                     
look back at me, I quickly realize that we are who we are and that's all there is to it.  
                                              


My inutility and uselessness does not end there, birthday parties are in this category too.  I don't make jack.  I buy it all at etsy (where the doers dwell), while my mom friends are baking cakes, taking classes to bake said cake (if they have a challenging theme), making homemade invitations, blah blah blah.  While I do covet these folks so very much, I am immediately thinking who can bake, and decorate cake or cupcakes, where I can order invitations from, and if there is enough money in the budget to have a photographer at the party, because I can't be bothered.

So really what I have just realized whilst blogging is that the doers and buyers are really the ying and yang, the cookies and milk, the wind beneath my cardinal wing.  Symbiotic relationship, fo shizzle.  Well shoot, I'm part of an ecosystem.  Cool, I don't feel so useless now.

So, there are the "doers" and the "have somebody else do it' ers" and I am perfectly ok being the latter.  We all have a place in this big, wide world.  Moral of the story...tally up the prices of the material, gas to get to the store, and the creativity fee, and I'll buy it from you.

Mushy Post

Mother's Day has come and gone this year.  It has always been that this is the day that you show and shower your own mother (or mom-like figure) in your life with adulation and love.   It was no different this year.  The only thing was that this year, I have begun to feeeeeel differently about what mothering/parenting is all about.  I also have this growing respect and reverence to my own  mother.  It's like, you know you love your mother and always have, but, now its like you share this experience with her.   How can I manage to love my mother more after becoming a parent?  Weird, right, but, you just can't believe that your mother loves you like you love your children.  It's an immeasurable, immense, full body kinda love. 

I think each year you grow in your parenting and seem to become more sure footed about certain things.  My poor first born, is still our beloved guinea pig though.  She gets our first go around with a topic or situation, but, we also feel more confident that we can handle things.  Our focus has turned somewhat away from her physical needs and shifted more to her emotional/character/morals/ and relationship needs.  The cool thing is that it seems my 3 year old is riding the 5 year old's draft.  So what was a huge deal for us when Athena was 3, isn't such a big deal with Saylor at 3.  We're more relaxed and therefore, easier to see things that are actually important and those that aren't.

I wanted to thank my daughters for being perfection.  I am honored to co-parent them.  I am lucky that they chose us and that we get to experience them.  I want to thank Athena for making me a mother, and for Saylor who complements and completes our family.  And, I want to thank both of them for making me WANT to be a mother. 

Finally, I want to thank you mom, for before, now and for whats to come.

Told you.  Mushy post.

   

Sole Mate

Long story short, second day back at the gym after a long hiatus.  I work out, shower, get ready for my day (remember this post?) and leave the gym.  I return home to find that in my bag there is only one sneaker.  I go back to the gym and *poof* gone, no shoe anywhere and nothing in the lost in found, or in the garbage.  I lost one of my damn shoes!  Second day back.  Ugh.  So it goes.

I leave the front desk person my phone number and a description of my shoe ala missing person.  "It was blue and silver, new balance, size 8 1/2, with double knotted shoe laces. Last seen in the locker room". The diffident front desk person writes my name and number on the corner of a group exercise class schedule.  He is soooooo not going to call me.  My sneaker is a goner.  The quicker I come to terms with this, the quicker I can move on.

So, after I get back in my car, now I'm pissed b/c I have to go and get a new pair.  I dislike unnecessary purchases, dislike them very much.  All of a sudden though, instead of being angry, I start to think about the shoe that was left behind.  My mind starts to wander and I start to personify this left, left shoe.  I mean I won't be using it anymore, it's not like I'm Terry Fox or anything.  So, now I am really thinking and empathizing with my poor lone sneaker.  I start to day dream  drive....


 If my sneaker were to write a personal ad, I feel it would be something like this....

Seeking sole mate.  Love to take long walks, and short ones too.  Love the outdoors and consider myself a morning person.  Doesn't matter what race you are, I love them all.  Looking for attractive, and athletic build.  Ideal mate would love to just run around town with me, and experience life's "hi's" and "lo's".  Only those that take pride in themselves and are odor and disease free need apply.  Should like Zumba, spinning and boot camps.  Must be spontaneous and willing to try new things.  Needing someone who has no commitment issues.  Only original personalities, no fakes or knockoffs, not too flashy but with a sense of style

 

Seeking someone that can meet me where the rubber meets the road.  So, if you want to take a step in the right direction, contact me.  Please include a recent picture.

Kurkure

It means crack cocaine in Sanskrit.        No?   It doesn't?  Oh.  *shrugging shoulders*  Welp, it should.  I have just found this snack that I am COMPLETELY addicted to (and so is Athena).  It is a grown up version of a Cheeto. These crunchy strands are similar to Cheetos, but have an Indian masala twist. They have a slight bite and tangy taste. There is no coincidence here, it is actually part Frito Lay's Indian division.

Now, I am so addicted that Athena and I MAY  have had that for breakfast the other day.  With a tall glass of milk, of course. Saylor ain't havin' it though.  "too spicy.  I don't like it.  I want oatmeal."  The gall of that girl to want breakfast food FOR breakfast.

In some part of my brain, I am justifying this snack as another opportunity to expose the girls' palates to new foods, when in reality......its an Indian Cheeto.


Now, these snacks are SUPER popular in India but are just being introduced to the mass american market in recent times. You know us Americans will need a "It ain't easy bein' cheesy" -Chester Cheetah kind of clevah advert for us to try their foods.

Somehow though, I don't think that

or

will prompt too much creativity, but we'll see.....

There IS this

and 

so we'll just have to wait and see.


In the meantime it just makes me want to do this......