As some of you may know, I work part time at a little boutique in my home town. A good friend of mine and her family own it and I couldn't be more blessed to work for them. We are very fortunate that the majority of our customers are fabulous, sweet, and kind. Today I had a young, well dressed gentleman come into the store looking for a dress for his wife. He was like most men....clueless.
He said that he was taking his wife out tomorrow night and she had mentioned to him that she wanted to wear a new dress. So when he got off of work, he decided to stop by the store to try and find something for her. I asked him what size she wore and he told me that she wears a medium...(*cough* skinny bitch *cough*) I showed him some of our most popular dresses and told him what she could wear them with when it came to shoes and accessories. He was very confused. After about 30 minutes of walking around the store and pulling dresses, he decided on a darling dress...perfect for what they were going to do the next evening. He asked me if I could help him pick out "something that goes with it". So this was seeming like it was going to work out great. Once we were finished he was grinning...probably just imagining that fancy dress hitting the floor when he brings his tipsy wife home from their night out. I mean, the least she can do after all this is give the guy a little......credit. I assured him that if it didn't fit right, or if it wasn't to her liking that she could exchange it for something else. I also told him how sweet he is to do this for her...you know what he told me? "She deserves more than I could ever give her." Awwww...they must be newly weds.
No more than 30 minutes after he left the store, the phone rings. It's him. He tells me that it was a little too small for her and that SHE wanted HIM to bring it up to the store and exchange it for something else. What? Okay.....let stop here for a moment. If my husband took the time to come into a WOMEN'S BOUTIQUE BY HIMSELF, that alone would of earned him a..........reward. She sends him back to the store to look for something else? And not only that....she sends him back with their 3 year old snot nosed son. Now, being the proper southern lady that I am, I would of thanked my sweet husband for thinking of me and tell him that the dress wasn't really my taste, or if it didn't fit that I would go and exchange it in the morning. (My husband and I have an agreement, if we spent good money on something for each other and we don't like it, we will be honest with each other and get something that we like.) When he arrived with the sneezy runny nosed child to shop AGAIN, I realized that this man has to be a saint. So he sees another dress and text her a picture of it. She calls him and I can hear her over the phone.... "Uh, yeah...no. What are you thinking? That is horrible!" She then tells him that she is going to wear a dress she already has, and.......wait for it......tells him to pick out jewelry to wear with it. Are you kidding me? The dude bought you a dress, drove back to the store to return it within 45 minutes of purchasing it, and now you are telling him to pick out jewelry? Oh, and by the way lady....your kid is tearing up the store. Just remember, you break it you buy it! Oy Vey!
So he gets off the phone and tells me that the dress she is going to wear is turquoise and black. I ask him a series of questions about what it looks like and with little or no answer to these questions I finally ask, "Can she maybe text you a picture of it?" You know what he says? "Well, she's getting her nails done right now so..." Okay. Where is this bitch of a wife you have, and when can I slap her? So with what little info he gives me, I show him a necklace and earrings. His face lights up, and I think to myself, "Don't get too happy buddy....look where that landed you last time!" Last thing I wanted is for this sweet, poor man to be sitting in our parking lot when I get to work tomorrow morning with his head hung low and greeting me with, "Back again". He takes a picture of the jewelry and text it to her. And guess what...........you're never gonna believe this.........she doesn't like it. All together now, "Noooooo". Now I'm thinking this hen is about as crazy as a cat trying to cover it's crap on a marble floor.
In the end, he ended up just returning the dress and earrings. He walked out the door with his sneezing-snot head-hell on wheels of a son and looking defeated. So ladies, let's get something straight. If your husband does anything remotely close to what this jewel of a man did and you act like his old lady, I will come to your house put a stock pot that you've probably never cooked with over your head and bang it with a hammer until you ears fall off and you won't have to worry about what earrings you're gonna wear.....yeah....yeah....and then I'm going to give you the number to my pediatrician so you can get your kid some Adderall and a Z-Pack.
Until next time...
You're only as strong as the hold of your hairspray, the coffee you drink, and the friends you keep.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Shark Week: A overrated definition of "Duh"
I've never wanted to go swimming out in the ocean. Part of the reason may be that the only part of the ocean I've been to is the Gulf of Mexico and we all know how crystal clear and pristine the waters of Port Aransas are....NOT! I never have seen Jaws but I'm pretty sure my fear of the surf comes from my worry wart mother. My mom is terrified, my sister is terrified, and I am terrified of the ocean. We all have to consume almost a case of beer alone just to get the courage to go in ankle deep water to sit down and pee. When my husband and I were dating, we went down to the Texas coast with his family and the water was super clear. Woody has no fear of the ocean so feeling adventurous, in love, and a little buzzed, I decided to go alllllll the way out to the last sandbar with my hunky beau. We could see our feet even as we were shoulder deep (well, Woody was ear deep) in the water which was good, but also bad. I could see fish that were about 10-12 inches long swimming around. So. If there are fish that big swimming around, obviously there is something much bigger that can eat that fish. I looked at Woody and told him, "Sorry dude. Your on your own." and started swimming back to shore. (In our wedding that happened a year and a half after this even, I made sure my vows did not include, "in safe, or shark infested waters" just for this particular reason) And as I am swimming and praying to sweet Jesus that I make it back to shore with my limbs, I hear Woody shout, "Kicking just attracts the sharks!" Do you know how hard it is to swim for your life, pray, cry, AND curse you boyfriend at the same time?
So Discovery Channel has week long special that many have heard of, and it's called "Shark Week". This is also known as, "No Shit Sherlock". These brave (*cough* stupid) souls have the desire to go out and "study" sharks. Now listen. I don't know about you, but I think the only thing that I want to know is how to keep them the hell away from me. In my opinion, if the government can build a wall along the Texas/Mexico border, I'm pretty sure we can construct some type of "swim fence" to keep beach goers safe. Just sayin'. But I'm not so interested in the shows that see what it's like from the inside of a sharks mouth by swimming with sharks using a "bite cam". Or what about the guy that goes swimming with great white sharks and can "hypnotize" them by touching their nose. Why do you need to do something like that? How does that help me? Now, the show on how they make shark repellent out of dead rotting sharks is what grabs my attention. So enough with the unnecessary crap! All these "scientists" just need to stop with the BS research on why Great White Sharks fly out of water while attacking a seal. You know why? Cause those little boogers are quick and agile, that's why. They've got to be quick! End of story. Now, how 'bout y'all put some time and effort toward manufacturing a personal shark repellent device. Here's what I'm thinking....ready? Ok. We start with an ankle monitor looking jobby. Then we make cartridges out rotten shark....I'm imagining something like those little gel packs that you use in your Glade Plug-ins. The only problem with this is we'll have to make the ankle bracelets cute or with customizable straps or something...you know, to make these look different from "government issued" anklets. I would hate for some sweet little college girl to think she's safe with some dude wearing a shark repelling anklet and he's really on probation. Yeah, no bueno. I mean, if I could make this happen I would be a gazillionaire! So we all need to write letters to these "researchers" and ask them to A) start on the design and construction of a "Swim Fence" that can go along America's coastline, and B) Hop on the "shark repelling" bandwagon. Until then, I will continue to go to the beach. As long as I have a dead, rotting shark tied around some part of my body.
Until next time,
You're only as strong as the hold of your hairspray, the coffee you drink, and the friends you keep.
So Discovery Channel has week long special that many have heard of, and it's called "Shark Week". This is also known as, "No Shit Sherlock". These brave (*cough* stupid) souls have the desire to go out and "study" sharks. Now listen. I don't know about you, but I think the only thing that I want to know is how to keep them the hell away from me. In my opinion, if the government can build a wall along the Texas/Mexico border, I'm pretty sure we can construct some type of "swim fence" to keep beach goers safe. Just sayin'. But I'm not so interested in the shows that see what it's like from the inside of a sharks mouth by swimming with sharks using a "bite cam". Or what about the guy that goes swimming with great white sharks and can "hypnotize" them by touching their nose. Why do you need to do something like that? How does that help me? Now, the show on how they make shark repellent out of dead rotting sharks is what grabs my attention. So enough with the unnecessary crap! All these "scientists" just need to stop with the BS research on why Great White Sharks fly out of water while attacking a seal. You know why? Cause those little boogers are quick and agile, that's why. They've got to be quick! End of story. Now, how 'bout y'all put some time and effort toward manufacturing a personal shark repellent device. Here's what I'm thinking....ready? Ok. We start with an ankle monitor looking jobby. Then we make cartridges out rotten shark....I'm imagining something like those little gel packs that you use in your Glade Plug-ins. The only problem with this is we'll have to make the ankle bracelets cute or with customizable straps or something...you know, to make these look different from "government issued" anklets. I would hate for some sweet little college girl to think she's safe with some dude wearing a shark repelling anklet and he's really on probation. Yeah, no bueno. I mean, if I could make this happen I would be a gazillionaire! So we all need to write letters to these "researchers" and ask them to A) start on the design and construction of a "Swim Fence" that can go along America's coastline, and B) Hop on the "shark repelling" bandwagon. Until then, I will continue to go to the beach. As long as I have a dead, rotting shark tied around some part of my body.
Until next time,
You're only as strong as the hold of your hairspray, the coffee you drink, and the friends you keep.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
50 Shades: Violation on a WHOLE other level...
Just a warning....this may be a tad inappropriate....just a tad....maybe.
I was never much into reading as a kid. Not until I got married, quit my job, and had a kid did I truly appreciate that there was a way to sit down and be taken into a whole other world. Calgon, take me away! I had a period of time that I read ALL of Tess Gerritsen's books. I couldn't put them down! Then I got busy or something....not quite sure why I didn't read for a while. But then while at a birthday party, I heard about this book. A booked that was being called, "Mommy Porn" by it's readers and the media. Huh? No way....seriously people, you need to broaden you horizons when it comes to the bedroom apparently because I'm pretty sure that nothing sold at Barnes & Noble could be so intense. Now, for those of you who have read a few of my blogs, you know that I will admit when I am wrong. Here I go again....I was wrong.
This all started when I went to a friend's surprise party... as the men were playing a game of washers in the yard, the hens were perched on the deck talking about recent events...being pregnant, getting pooped on, planning birthday's...you know, the normal crap mommies talk about. Then we got on the subject of books and I have heard a few things about this book, "50 Shades of Grey" but didn't research it or anything. Just heard it was sexual...whatever. Well, one of the ladies let us know that this book has added fuel to her fire. She said that she read about things that she didn't have a clue existed...and then a couple of the other hens opened up and said that they had heard about it...that it had reignited their sexual relationships with their husbands, or gave some women the courage to "try new things". So this peaked my interest. Could there be a book out there that really got a woman's blood REALLY pumping? I doubt it...IT'S A BOOK! And I was pretty sure there were no illustrations involved so could this author paint a good enough picture to get someone's lady parts beeping? Doubtful....especially since I had heard that this was poorly written . So I figured I had nothing to lose...my husband was going out of town for 3 days so I was pretty sure that IF this book did what most said it did, I would be safe in the comfort of a cold shower and not at the mercy of a neglected husband...so I went with a girlfriend to Barnes & Noble after I dropped my daughter off at school...if you thought that I was going to walk into a bookstore asking where the "Mommy Porn" was by myself, you are sadly mistaken... we looked, and looked, and looked for that friggin' book. Is it in Women's Studies? No.... What about Instructional? No.... School Summer Reading? God, I hope not.... We finally find where it is supposed to be but it appears that they are out of them. So I go up to the front to pay for my Dr. Seuss book...okay, now this is just wrong..Dr. Seuss and Mommy Porn...I ask the cashier if they are out of that book and she says, "Oh no...we keep them behind the counter..." WHAT?!?!?! Oh Lord....maybe I should just tell her to forget about it but I did bring my friend here for support. Too late to turn back now...
So that evening I start reading this book....no sex yet. It was little slow to start but I'm glad, because if that author would of just gotten to the meat and potatoes right away, I would of burned the damn thing. She knew what she was doing when she wrote this book. She got me intrigued by the main characters and the mystery the Mr. Grey. Then it started getting hot, and then is simmered, then it started boiling....OH SHIT! IT'S BOILING OVER! What in the......okay, enough for one night...I'm going to bed....okay, one more chapter....After approximately 36 hours of having this book in my possession, I finished it. And let me tell you....if Anastasia wasn't sore from what she personally endured, I was sore for her....just reading this made me tired. Once I closed the book, I have to tell you something. I have NEVER felt so violated in my ENTIRE life. It was like, if I knew of this Mr. Grey and ran into him at Panera, I'm pretty sure I would run out the door screaming let alone look this delicious freak in the eyes! As soon as my hubs got home from his fishing trip, I told him that I read this book and a little bit about it. He was shocked. All the sudden I felt like I was a teenager and caught in something that I shouldn't of done and said, "The only reason I did it was because everyone else was doing it!" That's right...I succumbed to peer pressure....I read a book.
Not only did I admit to my husband that I read this crazy "book", I told my friends....I warned them...I explained that I really want to read the next book in the series but I'm afraid that the next one will have the same outrageous amount of sexual content, and I can't handle it. I feel dirty already and I'm pretty sure I will have to sit on ice for a week before even attempting to read the second one. I wonder how many crazy women Barnes & Noble have coming in at opening with two cigarettes hanging out of their mouth, and a fresh scotch on the rocks. So, in conclusion I believe that I will write the author and tell her that she should include a supply list with the purchase of this book and it should include, but not limited to:
Ambien (because obviously when it's time for bed, you can't put the damn book down!)
Cigarettes
Ice
Batteries
Scotch (or any hard liquor of your choice)
A well rested Male (preferably Mr. Grey)
You've been warned...
Laters, Babe
I was never much into reading as a kid. Not until I got married, quit my job, and had a kid did I truly appreciate that there was a way to sit down and be taken into a whole other world. Calgon, take me away! I had a period of time that I read ALL of Tess Gerritsen's books. I couldn't put them down! Then I got busy or something....not quite sure why I didn't read for a while. But then while at a birthday party, I heard about this book. A booked that was being called, "Mommy Porn" by it's readers and the media. Huh? No way....seriously people, you need to broaden you horizons when it comes to the bedroom apparently because I'm pretty sure that nothing sold at Barnes & Noble could be so intense. Now, for those of you who have read a few of my blogs, you know that I will admit when I am wrong. Here I go again....I was wrong.
This all started when I went to a friend's surprise party... as the men were playing a game of washers in the yard, the hens were perched on the deck talking about recent events...being pregnant, getting pooped on, planning birthday's...you know, the normal crap mommies talk about. Then we got on the subject of books and I have heard a few things about this book, "50 Shades of Grey" but didn't research it or anything. Just heard it was sexual...whatever. Well, one of the ladies let us know that this book has added fuel to her fire. She said that she read about things that she didn't have a clue existed...and then a couple of the other hens opened up and said that they had heard about it...that it had reignited their sexual relationships with their husbands, or gave some women the courage to "try new things". So this peaked my interest. Could there be a book out there that really got a woman's blood REALLY pumping? I doubt it...IT'S A BOOK! And I was pretty sure there were no illustrations involved so could this author paint a good enough picture to get someone's lady parts beeping? Doubtful....especially since I had heard that this was poorly written . So I figured I had nothing to lose...my husband was going out of town for 3 days so I was pretty sure that IF this book did what most said it did, I would be safe in the comfort of a cold shower and not at the mercy of a neglected husband...so I went with a girlfriend to Barnes & Noble after I dropped my daughter off at school...if you thought that I was going to walk into a bookstore asking where the "Mommy Porn" was by myself, you are sadly mistaken... we looked, and looked, and looked for that friggin' book. Is it in Women's Studies? No.... What about Instructional? No.... School Summer Reading? God, I hope not.... We finally find where it is supposed to be but it appears that they are out of them. So I go up to the front to pay for my Dr. Seuss book...okay, now this is just wrong..Dr. Seuss and Mommy Porn...I ask the cashier if they are out of that book and she says, "Oh no...we keep them behind the counter..." WHAT?!?!?! Oh Lord....maybe I should just tell her to forget about it but I did bring my friend here for support. Too late to turn back now...
So that evening I start reading this book....no sex yet. It was little slow to start but I'm glad, because if that author would of just gotten to the meat and potatoes right away, I would of burned the damn thing. She knew what she was doing when she wrote this book. She got me intrigued by the main characters and the mystery the Mr. Grey. Then it started getting hot, and then is simmered, then it started boiling....OH SHIT! IT'S BOILING OVER! What in the......okay, enough for one night...I'm going to bed....okay, one more chapter....After approximately 36 hours of having this book in my possession, I finished it. And let me tell you....if Anastasia wasn't sore from what she personally endured, I was sore for her....just reading this made me tired. Once I closed the book, I have to tell you something. I have NEVER felt so violated in my ENTIRE life. It was like, if I knew of this Mr. Grey and ran into him at Panera, I'm pretty sure I would run out the door screaming let alone look this delicious freak in the eyes! As soon as my hubs got home from his fishing trip, I told him that I read this book and a little bit about it. He was shocked. All the sudden I felt like I was a teenager and caught in something that I shouldn't of done and said, "The only reason I did it was because everyone else was doing it!" That's right...I succumbed to peer pressure....I read a book.
Not only did I admit to my husband that I read this crazy "book", I told my friends....I warned them...I explained that I really want to read the next book in the series but I'm afraid that the next one will have the same outrageous amount of sexual content, and I can't handle it. I feel dirty already and I'm pretty sure I will have to sit on ice for a week before even attempting to read the second one. I wonder how many crazy women Barnes & Noble have coming in at opening with two cigarettes hanging out of their mouth, and a fresh scotch on the rocks. So, in conclusion I believe that I will write the author and tell her that she should include a supply list with the purchase of this book and it should include, but not limited to:
Ambien (because obviously when it's time for bed, you can't put the damn book down!)
Cigarettes
Ice
Batteries
Scotch (or any hard liquor of your choice)
A well rested Male (preferably Mr. Grey)
You've been warned...
Laters, Babe
Saturday, May 12, 2012
From Torture to Triumph
If you think this is ONLY about a personal trial that I endured, you're sadly mistaken. I am going to share with you, a bit of my life that not many know about and how happy that I made it through, and more importantly, my sister.
Laurel and I laugh about the things I would do to her as a kid, but I'm actually pretty happy that she didn't grow up to be an addict of some sort because of her traumatic childhood. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad but I feel pretty bad for the things that I would do to her. I would pin her down, lean over her face and let a slow and steady stream of saliva drip out of my mouth and right before it hit her face, I would slurp it back in my mouth. That was the plan at least. But once in a while, the stream o' saliva would be out of my control and actually land on her face. Geez, just seeing this in words makes me realize how utterly disgusting that was... Then there was the tickling....my sister is the MOST ticklish person I have ever known. If you hold your hand anywhere near her and move you fingers as if you are tickling her, she would start laughing or better yet, let out a squeal. I would tickle her until she couldn't breathe. Now before you think I was trying to kill her, please understand that this child would cry so hard when getting her diaper changed, she would pass out. Or when she got hurt, she would first let out what we call, "The Siren". Imagine a siren on an emergency vehicle and how the sound starts out lower in sound and then intensifies. Except, when Laurel's "siren" intensified, she would turn blue and my mom would be yelling at her, "LAUREL! BREATHE! BREATHE LAUREL!" Any time we would rough-house and she would get hurt, I would say, "Don't tell Mom! Don't tell Mom! Shhhhhh! Don't cry! Don't cry!" and I would just pray that the siren wouldn't go off! So obviously physical torturing like spitting on my sister, tickling her in misery, or beating her up, only forced her to engage what I would like to call, "Cerebral torture". I hate Oomp-Loompa's with a passion. The small stature, the orange skin, the deep voices....it's kind of like an elephant being afraid of a mouse. You would think that this big "Corn-fed Barbie" couldn't possibly be scared of a fictional candy making little person, but I am. So out of nowhere, I would be in my room and I would hear the candy making chant of, "Oomp Loompa doo-pa-dy do...." Oh, and let's not forget about Furbies. Do any of you remember those little freaks? They were like little Gremlins with fur and buggy eyes. I HATED those things...I would walk into Laurel's room (when no one was in there) and I would hear in a high pitched voice, "Mama". Ugh! That send chills down my spine just hearing that voice in my head. Well, she would go and hide those little spawns of the devil in my room and just wait for me to scream and beg for her to come and get those damn things out of my room....again, the elephant afraid of a mouse.
So besides the obvious torture, there was the torture that we both endured...the unintentional torture. For several years, in middle school and high school, I suffered from severe depression and anxiety. That may be surprising to some of the people that I met later in my life, but part of the reason that I am who I am today is because of what I went through. Understand that because of this condition and the high doses of medication I was on to help with my anxiety, I was in a whole other world. Those years of my life are a complete blur. A lot I remember but it's like recalling a memory of someone else...out of body almost. I would fight with my mom every morning before school, normally resulting in me having an anxiety attack and my mother in tears. Laurel was forced to tag along for several doctors appointments since my Dad worked out of town so Mom was doing it by herself. She saw things a kid shouldn't see....the breakdowns, the anxiety attacks, the verbal fights and yelling....it brings tears to my eyes when I think of things Laurel witnessed. She didn't deserve that. My parents didn't deserve that. There were times that I would ask my mom why I had to deal with this. But what I now think about is, why did my young sister have to go through that. She didn't have a "big sister". She had a sick sister. Understand that there are 6 years between us in age, so when we were younger, we really didn't have a lot in common anyway. But I didn't know about what was going on in her school, I wasn't there when/if she was upset about anything. Those years of my life are a complete blur. Yes, I missed the years that should of been the most memorable like going with my friends to high school football games and dances. But what pains me the most is missing those years of my sister.
Since I've been better, I have tried to be there for Laurel and include her in my happy moments when I could/can. I watched her show her goats in high school, went along to shop for her prom dress, cried as I watched her walk across the stage for her high school graduation, had the honor of her being the maid of honor in our wedding, had her there when my daughter was born and be her Godmother, and just calling to meet up for lunch, have drinks, or take a trip to the coast. But now, I got to see her walk the stage as she graduated from college. Something that I never had the desire to do. I just wanted to get married and be a Mom...that's my passion. Her's is to be an educated and successful woman. I am so incredibly proud of her! She has worked pretty much full time and gone to school full time. She is going to be doing something that she loves and has a passion for and more than anything, THAT is what makes me most happy. She has accomplished so much. The fact that I look up to HER makes me both sad and happy. My sadness comes from the years of the unintentional torture she endured during my tough years. She didn't have a sibling to look up to....I don't blame her if she hated me during those horrible years. I want her to know that wasn't me....I didn't want to go through all that....I didn't want her to go through all that, but she did. There are no words to say how thrilled I am to see her grow up into such a successful, intelligent, loving, strong, and dedicated woman. I believe that some of my family worried about what my future would hold, and if I would ever pull out of what I was going through. I know my grandmother always makes it a point to tell me how lucky I am to land such a wonderful husband and that she never thought that I would get married because of "everything" I went through....yeah, thanks Nanny... But did they worry if Laurel would make it through too? I did. I pray that one day Peyton will be just like her. In my eyes, she's perfect... she's smart, she's determined, she's focused, she strong in her faith, strong in her beliefs...she's loving, she's smart, she's beautiful.... I love her and I am thrilled beyond words of what she has become!
So on a lighter note, I would also like to say, "You're Welcome!" Because without my tickling, saliva, and rough-housing, you Miss Laurel Marie, wouldn't be the bad-ass you are today! I love you seester!
Laurel and I laugh about the things I would do to her as a kid, but I'm actually pretty happy that she didn't grow up to be an addict of some sort because of her traumatic childhood. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad but I feel pretty bad for the things that I would do to her. I would pin her down, lean over her face and let a slow and steady stream of saliva drip out of my mouth and right before it hit her face, I would slurp it back in my mouth. That was the plan at least. But once in a while, the stream o' saliva would be out of my control and actually land on her face. Geez, just seeing this in words makes me realize how utterly disgusting that was... Then there was the tickling....my sister is the MOST ticklish person I have ever known. If you hold your hand anywhere near her and move you fingers as if you are tickling her, she would start laughing or better yet, let out a squeal. I would tickle her until she couldn't breathe. Now before you think I was trying to kill her, please understand that this child would cry so hard when getting her diaper changed, she would pass out. Or when she got hurt, she would first let out what we call, "The Siren". Imagine a siren on an emergency vehicle and how the sound starts out lower in sound and then intensifies. Except, when Laurel's "siren" intensified, she would turn blue and my mom would be yelling at her, "LAUREL! BREATHE! BREATHE LAUREL!" Any time we would rough-house and she would get hurt, I would say, "Don't tell Mom! Don't tell Mom! Shhhhhh! Don't cry! Don't cry!" and I would just pray that the siren wouldn't go off! So obviously physical torturing like spitting on my sister, tickling her in misery, or beating her up, only forced her to engage what I would like to call, "Cerebral torture". I hate Oomp-Loompa's with a passion. The small stature, the orange skin, the deep voices....it's kind of like an elephant being afraid of a mouse. You would think that this big "Corn-fed Barbie" couldn't possibly be scared of a fictional candy making little person, but I am. So out of nowhere, I would be in my room and I would hear the candy making chant of, "Oomp Loompa doo-pa-dy do...." Oh, and let's not forget about Furbies. Do any of you remember those little freaks? They were like little Gremlins with fur and buggy eyes. I HATED those things...I would walk into Laurel's room (when no one was in there) and I would hear in a high pitched voice, "Mama". Ugh! That send chills down my spine just hearing that voice in my head. Well, she would go and hide those little spawns of the devil in my room and just wait for me to scream and beg for her to come and get those damn things out of my room....again, the elephant afraid of a mouse.
So besides the obvious torture, there was the torture that we both endured...the unintentional torture. For several years, in middle school and high school, I suffered from severe depression and anxiety. That may be surprising to some of the people that I met later in my life, but part of the reason that I am who I am today is because of what I went through. Understand that because of this condition and the high doses of medication I was on to help with my anxiety, I was in a whole other world. Those years of my life are a complete blur. A lot I remember but it's like recalling a memory of someone else...out of body almost. I would fight with my mom every morning before school, normally resulting in me having an anxiety attack and my mother in tears. Laurel was forced to tag along for several doctors appointments since my Dad worked out of town so Mom was doing it by herself. She saw things a kid shouldn't see....the breakdowns, the anxiety attacks, the verbal fights and yelling....it brings tears to my eyes when I think of things Laurel witnessed. She didn't deserve that. My parents didn't deserve that. There were times that I would ask my mom why I had to deal with this. But what I now think about is, why did my young sister have to go through that. She didn't have a "big sister". She had a sick sister. Understand that there are 6 years between us in age, so when we were younger, we really didn't have a lot in common anyway. But I didn't know about what was going on in her school, I wasn't there when/if she was upset about anything. Those years of my life are a complete blur. Yes, I missed the years that should of been the most memorable like going with my friends to high school football games and dances. But what pains me the most is missing those years of my sister.
Since I've been better, I have tried to be there for Laurel and include her in my happy moments when I could/can. I watched her show her goats in high school, went along to shop for her prom dress, cried as I watched her walk across the stage for her high school graduation, had the honor of her being the maid of honor in our wedding, had her there when my daughter was born and be her Godmother, and just calling to meet up for lunch, have drinks, or take a trip to the coast. But now, I got to see her walk the stage as she graduated from college. Something that I never had the desire to do. I just wanted to get married and be a Mom...that's my passion. Her's is to be an educated and successful woman. I am so incredibly proud of her! She has worked pretty much full time and gone to school full time. She is going to be doing something that she loves and has a passion for and more than anything, THAT is what makes me most happy. She has accomplished so much. The fact that I look up to HER makes me both sad and happy. My sadness comes from the years of the unintentional torture she endured during my tough years. She didn't have a sibling to look up to....I don't blame her if she hated me during those horrible years. I want her to know that wasn't me....I didn't want to go through all that....I didn't want her to go through all that, but she did. There are no words to say how thrilled I am to see her grow up into such a successful, intelligent, loving, strong, and dedicated woman. I believe that some of my family worried about what my future would hold, and if I would ever pull out of what I was going through. I know my grandmother always makes it a point to tell me how lucky I am to land such a wonderful husband and that she never thought that I would get married because of "everything" I went through....yeah, thanks Nanny... But did they worry if Laurel would make it through too? I did. I pray that one day Peyton will be just like her. In my eyes, she's perfect... she's smart, she's determined, she's focused, she strong in her faith, strong in her beliefs...she's loving, she's smart, she's beautiful.... I love her and I am thrilled beyond words of what she has become!
So on a lighter note, I would also like to say, "You're Welcome!" Because without my tickling, saliva, and rough-housing, you Miss Laurel Marie, wouldn't be the bad-ass you are today! I love you seester!
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Tower 'o Crowns
Anyone who has seen the TV show “Toddlers & Tiaras”
knows what level of dysfunction it takes to participate in a pageant of that
sort. They wear wigs so it doesn’t look
like their hair, “flippers” so it doesn’t look like their teeth, makeup so it
doesn’t look like their face…so in all reality, they are judged on what they
AREN’T. I was never the pageant type. My
aunt tried talking my mom into putting me in the Little Miss Helotes pageant
when I was a little girl and I just wasn’t into it. But even if I did
participate, it didn’t involve the antics…
I never had an interest in clothes, shoes, makeup, or hair…I was a
tomboy. All I wanted to do was play
sports, raise animals in 4-H, and get dirty.
But, I am well aware of the work that it takes to be in a pageant such
as Miss Helotes. The girls are
themselves, they are interviewed…it’s not just who is the prettiest. And if you
are on the court, you make appearances, you participate in parades, you are
involved in the community. (There is one girl that I have known since she was
little and she was on the Miss Helotes Court. Every time I have seen her, she
has a smile that lights up the room, is so sweet & respectful…the only way
Peyton would be allowed to run for Miss Helotes, is if she acted as graceful
and sweet as Dani.) So, it takes a lot
of time out of your personal life. It is definitely a commitment! I’m sure that
there are politics involved but politics are involved in EVERYTHING…sports,
FFA, 4-H, pageants…don’t deny it!
One of my daughter’s teachers at school had asked me if I
was going to put Peyton in the “Little Miss Cornsilk Pageant” during Cornyval.
For those of you who don’t know what Cornyval is, it is Helotes’ annual
festival that includes a carnival, rodeo, parade, and booths that local
organizations have in attempts to raise money.
I told Ms. S that I didn’t know about it but I am totally NOT a pageant
mom. As days went on, I kept thinking
about it. My kid is cute, she has a
great personality, and she knows what makes you pretty….a sweet heart. A couple of weeks went by and I ran into Ms.
Judy…she runs the Miss Helotes Pageant. I asked her what was up with this Cornsilk
pageant and she gave me a flyer and told
me that I should put Peyton in it because every little girl get a sash, crown,
and a trophy. I thought that Peyton would like that….especially if she got a
trophy! The first thing she asked me when I signed her up for a second season
of soccer was, “When do I get my gold medal?!?”
So, a trophy was right down her alley.
The flyer also stated that they were to wear a cute summer outfit…
Something that you could pull out of your closet. But how that translated in my mind was, “I
need to go shopping!” This isn’t sounding too bad after all! I went and bought her a sweet little white
sundress at Old Navy and some new darling little turquoise sandals at Nordstrom
Rack…the entire get up costs me about $30.
So on Sunday, we showed up to register Peyton. I realized that this wasn’t
put on by Miss Helotes like I thought it would be. It was put on by a pageant
cult…I mean, a pageant circuit. I look
on the stage and there are crowns of different sizes, sashes of different
colors, and trophies of different sizes. This was my first clue….
So after I sign Peyton up, I am watching as Mom’s start
hauling their daughters, no….make that show ponies….they are hauling their show
ponies in. Funny thing is, all the local
girls were dressed in cute summer outfits with the normal southern “satellite bow”
adorned to their pretty little heads…mine included! All looking like sweet
little southern ladies, but with a little sass….after all, that’s how we roll!
Then there were the out of towners…the non-locals. As they strolled in with
their show ponies in tow, I was thinking “Y’all aren’t from these parts, are ya
pilgrim…” I’m not kidding when I say that there was a girl that was probably 10
years old wearing 4 inch heels….oh yes…and she could strut in those bad boys
better than I ever could! When I heard other mom’s talking trash about these
girls, first I moved. I didn’t need to hear them disrespecting a child and
neither did Peyton…was I in awe of how these girls looked? Duh….but it is not
their fault….I blame their mother. I
couldn’t help but laugh ‘til I almost peed my pants when a mother of one of the
non-locals asked where they could change and they told her, “You can change her
in the handicapped port-o-potty…” YES!!!!! Oh my goodness! This is just too
damn good!!!!!
So one of the women running this show says that the girls
can go on the stage and practice. Practice
what? Oh Lord….here’s my second clue. So
as if they just opened the gates to Disney World, the non-locals make their way
to the stage in a colorful, sparkled, fluffy herd. I walk up to Miss Judy and ask her what they
mean by “practice”…were we supposed to have a routine prepared? If so, I’m going to play some Skunkweed so
they can all see Peyton’s mad break dancing skills! Ms. Judy tells me that the
stage is marked off and they show them where to stand and that sort of thing…and
that is also gives them something to do while they are waiting. So I go tell
Peyton to go up there and I can’t help but laugh…she had mud all over her! Here
she is with these perfectly coifed show ponies and my kid is sweaty and muddy. That’s my girl! But no worries, I knew that this would
probably happen so I brought her sun dress along with us to change her into
before the pageant. Once they announced
that the show was about to begin, I brought Peyton over to the bleachers and
stripped her down and changed her. No big deal….she’s 3….if the woman with the
see-through linen shorts gave me one more dirty look as I changed her, I was
going to yell, “Nice thong!” Get over it! It was now time to join the rest of
the show ponies…as we were all waiting for our child’s number to be called, a
little girl that was looking at Peyton’s shoes and went to grab
the flower that was on her sandal. Her
mom picked her up and said, “At the last pageant we were at, she messed up a
little girl’s shoe…” Uh, excuse me…did you say “last pageant”….oh Lord have
mercy! She then tells me that they are from Corpus Christi….HUH? People are
driving HOURS for this? And there isn’t even any money involved…and gas is
almost $4 a gallon….I continued to be amazed.
So Peyton walks up there and I watch her from the side of the stage…Ms.
Judy was sweet enough to tell her to smile and to wave…poor thing was just
standing up there wondering what the hell was going on. But it was hilarious!
Now, I forgot to mention that when we registered, we had to
fill out paperwork that had a “fill in the blank style” format so the MC could
talk about them. This is what Peyton’s
ended up being…. “This is Peyton. She is 3 years old and her hometown is San
Antonio. She is wearing a cool sundress
perfect for the Texas heat. She has blonde hair and blue eyes. Her favorite thing to do at home is jumping on
her trampoline. She is in preschool and
her favorite part of school is chapel.
Her favorite fruit is apples and her favorite food is chicken nuggets.
Her favorite thing to watch on TV is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. When she grows up
she wants to be a firefighter like her Daddy.”
Okay…so simple enough right? All
of her answers were what SHE gave me…here is an example of the type of things I
heard as they announced the non-locals. “This is Sarah. She is 4 years old and her hometown is Lake
Macadamia. She is wearing a coral, yellow, and pink ensemble that compliments
her tropical skin tone, along with gold sandals, beautiful diamond earrings,
and stylish designer sunglasses. She has shiny chestnut brown hair with flecks
of natural highlights and Caribbean blue eyes. Her favorite thing to do at home
is help her mommy clean house and take her elderly neighbors brownies. She is
in preschool and her favorite subject is lunch…yum yum! Her favorite fruit is
strawberries and her favorite food is cupcakes that are as sweet as her! Her
favorite shows to watch on TV are Dance Moms and Toddlers & Tiaras. When
she grows up she wants to be a philanthropist!”
Uh, really? I’m very doubtful that
your 4 year old knows what a philanthropist is seeing that her favorite subject
in school is lunch…
So the “crowning ceremony” finally happens…thank God because
I am sweating like whore in church and I fear the possible mudslide that might
occur if the older contestants’ makeup starts to melt off their face. So first
they do the community award, followed by the photogenic award, the portfolio
award, the beauty awards, the princess award, and lastly, the PRINCESS SUPREME
AWARD….I knew it! This is Toddlers & Tiaras! Where are the cameras?!? Supreme? I have only heard that terminology a
few times, and all have been while watching Toddlers & Tiaras! I was
talking to some old friends while this is all going on… I hear Peyton yelling
at the MC, “I’m getting sweaty over here! Hey! Excuse me! I’m sweaty!” I love this girl! I continue to watch, and
when the crowning for her division is over, Peyton has 2 crowns, 2 sashes, a trophy, a
medal, and a paper that says, “Best Hair”….OMG! She is going to fall over! Some
of these girls have MORE than 2 crowns….are they going to give a “Tower ‘o
Crowns” award? What does all this mean? I finally understand that the “supreme” for
this category comes back at the end to choose the Grand Supreme…I only
understood this when one of my friends put it in livestock terms. It’s like the
Champion Run…for those that aren’t livestock show people, that’s when the
champions from each class from that particular animal (i.e. pigs, goats, steer,
lambs…and so on)come back at the end to choose the Grand Champion for that
animal… Well, Peyton was not “champion” of her “class” so she didn’t have to
come back for the “champion run” but I was so happy to see that a darling
little local girl was chosen as the “champion” of their “class”. There is hope
for us locals yet! Since we weren’t
obligated to stay you know what we did? She
and I went and rode the Ferris Wheel (as I had promised her) to end our
Cornyval season. And as we enjoyed the warm breeze, she looked up at me and
said, “Today was a good day, Mom!” I
asked her if she had fun and she said that she did. Then I asked her the question that I always
ask….”Peyton, what makes you a pretty girl?”
And she replied, “My sweet heart.”
That’s all she needs to know. No little girl should be taught to believe
that a crown makes her more beautiful or makes her more confident. A parent who
teaches them to be a respectful, giving, kind, supportive, and genuine person
is teaching them what beauty REALLY is…But, I can confidently say that I will never put my kid in one of these things ever again....when she gets to the age that she can decide if she is ready to make the commitment it takes to be on a pageant court, we'll cross that road when we get there. I just want my girl growing up seeing the beauty in people for what it REALLY is! But I do have to say that I was pretty damn happy that she got "Best Hair" award! Those curly locks get them every time!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Parenting is NOT a competition....
There are so many people out there that are more than willing to always give you advice. I love those people that know everything about everything...they always have the best doctors, the best hair stylist, the best church....or they are the best mothers...those are the worst. The ones that have advice about how to handle behavior, potty training, education....they may be great parents, and their children may respond well to their parenting. But guess what....every child is different! And if every kid was the same, there WOULD be a manual on how to raise kids! I got crap from parents when they found out that Peyton was still in her crib at 2 1/2. She never tried to climb out, she wasn't unhappy there, and wouldn't you keep your kid caged for as long as you could too? Okay, caged is kind of harsh...you know what I mean. The same parents looked down their noses at me when she wasn't potty trained at 2. Does that mean I didn't try? No....she just wasn't interested. Why would I frustrate her and myself by forcing her to do something she wasn't ready for? Then there's the car seat....this shocked me. We bought a booster seat for Peyton that had a harness seat belt that was rated for kids up to 60 lbs. Most others were only up to 40 lbs. I had a parent tell me, "Why isn't she using the regular seat belt yet? Do you know how much time that would save you and how much easier that would be instead of buckling her in the harness?"
I recently saw a blog that several friend's on facebook (that are also mom's) had posted that talked about the influence that Pinterest has on moms. Moms are now feeling inadequate because they believe that the typical mom should have time to do the following:
-Cook a homemade breakfast consisting of clown face pancakes and "lincoln log" houses made from breakfast sausage.
-Have their kids dressed in matching ensembles, that are ironed, free of stains, and have coordinating bows and accessories.
-Line out the days activities like making color bubbles, homemade mosaic crayons, and flashcards made from recycled cardboard and magazine clippings.
-Carve rose shaped hand soap for the guest bathroom.
-Document their child's day and photograph every moment with their $2000 camera that they learned to use by reading tutorials about exposure, aperture, depth...blah, blah, blah.
-Do all the laundry and categorize by size, color, material, brand, and season.
-Label the spice cabinet
-Label the pantry
-Label the laundry room
-Label the kids.....wait, do they need labeling? Eh...what's the hurt?!
-Make a 4 course, nutritionally sound lunch...but always allowing the kids to be creative and let them paint with food like peanut butter.
-Lay your child(ren) down for their 1.75 hour nap and allow yourself some time to run 5 miles on your treadmill, do 30 minutes of yoga, and "allow" yourself to meditate.
-Wake your "perfectly behaved child" up, re-iron their outfits, and head off to the neighborhood playground for a play date with the other perfectly coiffed neighborhood kids...
-Oh, and don't forget! It's your day to take snacks...so grab some organic grapes, homemade goldfish crackers, divide them in a ziplock bag with a clothespin down the middle and decorate it like a butterfly. Or you could always make a quick batch of fat free/sugar free/gluten free/egg free/ lactose free cupcakes...whatever is easier. Break out your juicer and throw in some organic carrots, organic beets, organic celery, organic blueberries, organic kale, organic strawberries and juice away...
-Make it home just in time to pull a casserole out of the freezer that you premade last week, and pop it in the oven.
-Feed your family, and talk about the day including everyone's feelings, thoughts, worries, and discuss how to handle each situation. (I do feel like sit down family meals are important, but with casual conversation, not a counseling session.)
-Bathe your child(ren) in with the homemade chemical free body wash. (seems easy, right)
-Get them ready for bed, assist your 2 year old in reading the first 50 pages of War & Peace. The sing "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, oh, and in English.
-Go make love to your husband with what you learned in the recent article you read titled, "500 ways to turn your man on" followed by a 2 hour back and foot massage.
So, raise your hand if this is how your day goes....if you have raised your hand, it's time you stop reading now because I'm pretty sure I am about to offend you.
WHO IN THE HELL DOES THIS?!?!?! Half the time, Peyton and I spend all day in PJ's! When we go somewhere, do I make her look presentable? Of course! But when we are at home, we pretty much bum it. Do I feed my child nutritious food? Yes. Do I allow her to have a popsicle every now and then? Sure. Do I try my best to educate my child? Yes. Do I allow her to sit in front of the TV and watch cartoons? (gasp!) Yes...but she doesn't sit in front of the tube all day. But come on...what gives? Half the time......no, make that 90% of the time, these are the parents that have their children potty trained by the time they are 9 months old....yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Their children can speak 6 languages but freak out at the sight of another child trying to play with them. The moms that brag about only gaining 8 pounds when they were pregnant but give birth to a 5 pound baby with multiple health issues. The moms that make it seem that everything is perfect on the outside, but they are dieing on the inside. Because they don't allow themselves some alone time, or time with her girlfriends. Where is the fun? I think we forget that LIFE EXPERIENCES are just that....life.....experiences.
Now back to my experiences....When I got crap for Peyton not being potty trained at 2, when she was ready to be potty trained, she was in panties and accident free in 3 days....yep! 3 days...so even though you THINK your kid was potty trained at 9 months, you were really just training yourself to take them to the potty every 15 minutes...I bet that broke into your soap carving time. When Peyton was ready to get into a big girl bed, she stayed there. So when your kid was "napping" for 1.75 hours, how many times did they get out of their bed and come crying to you that they weren't tired? I bet that cut into you treadmill/yoga/meditation time. And if I want to keep my child in a harness seat belt til she is 60 lbs, I'll "waste my time" keeping her as safe as I can while you spend such valuable time labeling your spices, pantry, and kids. Now before I lose some friends, I would like to say that I don't think if your child is not in harness like Peyton, he/she is not safe. I'm just saying that my personal choice was to purchase a car seat that had this feature because it made ME feel better. I feel better that my daughter is in a harness...but let's all remember that the most important part is that your child is restrained in the car that is appropriate for their height, age, and weight. Do my parenting choices make me the best parent by some standards? Nope! I make mistakes...every parent does. But does Peyton think that I am the best Mommy this side of the Pecos? I sure hope so!
I know this blog is pretty broad but I do have a few valid points.
1. Parent your child the way you think is best for them but with fun and experiences in mind.
2. Parenting is not a competition. Every kid develops at a different rate. Some speak before others, some walk before others, some have developed fine motor skills before others. Nothing is wrong with your kid...they are just all different!
3. Don't offer your opinion unless it is wanted. If someone asks you, then give it to them. Don't push your child's school on someone else. Don't push your pediatrician on someone else....if they decide not to take your suggestion, it doesn't mean that they are wrong. It just means that they believe they found a better fit for their family and their child.
4. It's okay to have a messy house. It's okay to have dishes in the sink. It's okay to have clothes on the floor.... get dirty with your kid....get in the sand box, play with sidewalk chalk, catch butterflies, bake cookies and let them decorate them...one of the best things of being a kid is that there is no RIGHT way to do things.
5. I guarantee that your kid won't remember that you had a spotless house, and that they had carved soap. What they will remember is you...how much you love them, how you make them feel, and the things you do WITH them, not FOR them.
If I could afford all organic/chemical free products, I would definitely purchase them. I have a steam mop, I buy the "green" products when I can, and I do my best when it comes to food...we make sure that she has fresh fruits and veggies. But if we do indulge in fast food, or boxed dinners every now and then, I don't see any hurt in that. You do what you can...right? Bottom line is.....Everyone needs to chill out with the parenting competition and stop living up to what is "socially acceptable". Love the Lord, love your kids, love your family, make memories, and be happy....everything else is just...well....carved soap.
Until next time, You are only as strong as the hold of your hairspray, the coffee you drink, and the friends you keep!
I recently saw a blog that several friend's on facebook (that are also mom's) had posted that talked about the influence that Pinterest has on moms. Moms are now feeling inadequate because they believe that the typical mom should have time to do the following:
-Cook a homemade breakfast consisting of clown face pancakes and "lincoln log" houses made from breakfast sausage.
-Have their kids dressed in matching ensembles, that are ironed, free of stains, and have coordinating bows and accessories.
-Line out the days activities like making color bubbles, homemade mosaic crayons, and flashcards made from recycled cardboard and magazine clippings.
-Carve rose shaped hand soap for the guest bathroom.
-Document their child's day and photograph every moment with their $2000 camera that they learned to use by reading tutorials about exposure, aperture, depth...blah, blah, blah.
-Do all the laundry and categorize by size, color, material, brand, and season.
-Label the spice cabinet
-Label the pantry
-Label the laundry room
-Label the kids.....wait, do they need labeling? Eh...what's the hurt?!
-Make a 4 course, nutritionally sound lunch...but always allowing the kids to be creative and let them paint with food like peanut butter.
-Lay your child(ren) down for their 1.75 hour nap and allow yourself some time to run 5 miles on your treadmill, do 30 minutes of yoga, and "allow" yourself to meditate.
-Wake your "perfectly behaved child" up, re-iron their outfits, and head off to the neighborhood playground for a play date with the other perfectly coiffed neighborhood kids...
-Oh, and don't forget! It's your day to take snacks...so grab some organic grapes, homemade goldfish crackers, divide them in a ziplock bag with a clothespin down the middle and decorate it like a butterfly. Or you could always make a quick batch of fat free/sugar free/gluten free/egg free/ lactose free cupcakes...whatever is easier. Break out your juicer and throw in some organic carrots, organic beets, organic celery, organic blueberries, organic kale, organic strawberries and juice away...
-Make it home just in time to pull a casserole out of the freezer that you premade last week, and pop it in the oven.
-Feed your family, and talk about the day including everyone's feelings, thoughts, worries, and discuss how to handle each situation. (I do feel like sit down family meals are important, but with casual conversation, not a counseling session.)
-Bathe your child(ren) in with the homemade chemical free body wash. (seems easy, right)
-Get them ready for bed, assist your 2 year old in reading the first 50 pages of War & Peace. The sing "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Chinese, oh, and in English.
-Go make love to your husband with what you learned in the recent article you read titled, "500 ways to turn your man on" followed by a 2 hour back and foot massage.
So, raise your hand if this is how your day goes....if you have raised your hand, it's time you stop reading now because I'm pretty sure I am about to offend you.
WHO IN THE HELL DOES THIS?!?!?! Half the time, Peyton and I spend all day in PJ's! When we go somewhere, do I make her look presentable? Of course! But when we are at home, we pretty much bum it. Do I feed my child nutritious food? Yes. Do I allow her to have a popsicle every now and then? Sure. Do I try my best to educate my child? Yes. Do I allow her to sit in front of the TV and watch cartoons? (gasp!) Yes...but she doesn't sit in front of the tube all day. But come on...what gives? Half the time......no, make that 90% of the time, these are the parents that have their children potty trained by the time they are 9 months old....yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Their children can speak 6 languages but freak out at the sight of another child trying to play with them. The moms that brag about only gaining 8 pounds when they were pregnant but give birth to a 5 pound baby with multiple health issues. The moms that make it seem that everything is perfect on the outside, but they are dieing on the inside. Because they don't allow themselves some alone time, or time with her girlfriends. Where is the fun? I think we forget that LIFE EXPERIENCES are just that....life.....experiences.
Now back to my experiences....When I got crap for Peyton not being potty trained at 2, when she was ready to be potty trained, she was in panties and accident free in 3 days....yep! 3 days...so even though you THINK your kid was potty trained at 9 months, you were really just training yourself to take them to the potty every 15 minutes...I bet that broke into your soap carving time. When Peyton was ready to get into a big girl bed, she stayed there. So when your kid was "napping" for 1.75 hours, how many times did they get out of their bed and come crying to you that they weren't tired? I bet that cut into you treadmill/yoga/meditation time. And if I want to keep my child in a harness seat belt til she is 60 lbs, I'll "waste my time" keeping her as safe as I can while you spend such valuable time labeling your spices, pantry, and kids. Now before I lose some friends, I would like to say that I don't think if your child is not in harness like Peyton, he/she is not safe. I'm just saying that my personal choice was to purchase a car seat that had this feature because it made ME feel better. I feel better that my daughter is in a harness...but let's all remember that the most important part is that your child is restrained in the car that is appropriate for their height, age, and weight. Do my parenting choices make me the best parent by some standards? Nope! I make mistakes...every parent does. But does Peyton think that I am the best Mommy this side of the Pecos? I sure hope so!
I know this blog is pretty broad but I do have a few valid points.
1. Parent your child the way you think is best for them but with fun and experiences in mind.
2. Parenting is not a competition. Every kid develops at a different rate. Some speak before others, some walk before others, some have developed fine motor skills before others. Nothing is wrong with your kid...they are just all different!
3. Don't offer your opinion unless it is wanted. If someone asks you, then give it to them. Don't push your child's school on someone else. Don't push your pediatrician on someone else....if they decide not to take your suggestion, it doesn't mean that they are wrong. It just means that they believe they found a better fit for their family and their child.
4. It's okay to have a messy house. It's okay to have dishes in the sink. It's okay to have clothes on the floor.... get dirty with your kid....get in the sand box, play with sidewalk chalk, catch butterflies, bake cookies and let them decorate them...one of the best things of being a kid is that there is no RIGHT way to do things.
5. I guarantee that your kid won't remember that you had a spotless house, and that they had carved soap. What they will remember is you...how much you love them, how you make them feel, and the things you do WITH them, not FOR them.
If I could afford all organic/chemical free products, I would definitely purchase them. I have a steam mop, I buy the "green" products when I can, and I do my best when it comes to food...we make sure that she has fresh fruits and veggies. But if we do indulge in fast food, or boxed dinners every now and then, I don't see any hurt in that. You do what you can...right? Bottom line is.....Everyone needs to chill out with the parenting competition and stop living up to what is "socially acceptable". Love the Lord, love your kids, love your family, make memories, and be happy....everything else is just...well....carved soap.
Until next time, You are only as strong as the hold of your hairspray, the coffee you drink, and the friends you keep!
Monday, April 9, 2012
City Chicken
So....my grandmother is crazy. My mom's mom...not my dad's mom...well, my dad's mom has Alzheimer's but that's another blog. She has lost her mind. For one, she is strangely OBSESSED with my cousin, Matt. A few years back, she sent out Christmas cars signed with her name, my cousin's name, and his daughters name. Then for her own reasons decided to not speak to my aunt anymore. The lady has more money than what she knows what to do with but hardly eats, and doesn't fill her prescriptions because it "costs too much". But she can go through a carton of cigarettes in a week. The best was at my daughter's birthday party last year when she went outside, and sat on Matt's lap and started rubbing his beard, looked at Matt's wife and said, "I hope you don't mind me making love to your husband." Matt's brother looked at our grandma and says, "Nanny, you're friggin' sick!" Although I believe she meant love ON him, not make love TO him, it was still really weird. She believes that she can say anything she wants (even if it is hurtful) because she is old....whatever. Well, she decided to buy my daughter and Matt's daughter baby chicks for Easter....another thing she thinks she can do KNOWING that Matt's wife and I would not be happy with this.
My mom came over one morning and picked Peyton up so they could plant the garden at her house. That evening, I went to pick her up and as soon as I walked into the door my mom says, "I didn't do it." I then noticed a cardboard box with wood shavings in it, a dish of food and a chicken waterier that we had used when we raised chickens in 4-H. Also in that box was a little chick. I turned to my mom with what I'm guessing was a "I'm going to kill someone" face and said, "You have GOT to be kidding me....who got her this." My mom replies with the one name that I should of guessed from the beginning, "Nanny". Peyton runs in and with those big, beautiful, sparkling blues tells me, "MOMMY! LOOK AT MY CHICK!" My dad, the logical one, comes in and says, "Now baby, you can't get mad at Nanny....she's old and they just don't think." Well, no shit....
My first thought was that it's going to die because my 4 year old is handling it like a stuffed animal...what am I going to say to her if she wakes up to go see her chick and rigor has set in? Then, the fact that we live in the city where the neighbors' cats roam around like they own the place and we have an occasional raccoon sighting. So even better than her waking up to a cold, stiff chicken, she'll wake up to a bloody massacre in the back yard. Ugh! Does the Humane Society accept poultry? One thing that came to mind is the YouTube video where the kid is playing with his hamster outside and puts it on his head, and an predatory bird of some sort flies over and grabs the thing right off his head. Then there's our dog....she doesn't like any other animal of any sort...maybe we should name it "Scooby Snack". The best reaction was when we brought it home and my husband saw it. I won't talk about his reaction because it should be censored. One thought may be, "You raised chickens when you were a kid...why don't you keep it at your parents' house?" Well, the old chicken house was "converted" into a storage room so that wouldn't work. So here we are with a chicken in a cardboard box.
The first night, the thing was so friggin' loud...first I thought to put the cardboard box on the back porch, but that would pretty much be putting that chick on a silver platter for a cat, raccoon or snake. I took the box and set it on top of the washer in the garage...chicks need a warm place anyway. The next day, Peyton was playing with it in the back yard and as much as I want to hate this chicken, it was so cute how it just follows her around. She would go put him/her behind a tree, run off and that chick would come out looking for her and when he/she would see Peyton, it would haul buns over to her. But this chicken has also made me realize that we have a chicken trainer on our hands. She got a stick, put the chick on it and made the chicken balance on it as she walked around the yard. She has also taught this chicken to perch on her shoulder...Oh Lord.....it's gonna be harder than I thought to get rid of this poultry. So if anyone would like a free chicken let me know....but for future reference, we will decline any invitations for dinner that consist of but not limited to, fried chicken, chicken parmesan, chicken fajitas, chicken cordon bleu, or any other poultry dish.
My mom came over one morning and picked Peyton up so they could plant the garden at her house. That evening, I went to pick her up and as soon as I walked into the door my mom says, "I didn't do it." I then noticed a cardboard box with wood shavings in it, a dish of food and a chicken waterier that we had used when we raised chickens in 4-H. Also in that box was a little chick. I turned to my mom with what I'm guessing was a "I'm going to kill someone" face and said, "You have GOT to be kidding me....who got her this." My mom replies with the one name that I should of guessed from the beginning, "Nanny". Peyton runs in and with those big, beautiful, sparkling blues tells me, "MOMMY! LOOK AT MY CHICK!" My dad, the logical one, comes in and says, "Now baby, you can't get mad at Nanny....she's old and they just don't think." Well, no shit....
My first thought was that it's going to die because my 4 year old is handling it like a stuffed animal...what am I going to say to her if she wakes up to go see her chick and rigor has set in? Then, the fact that we live in the city where the neighbors' cats roam around like they own the place and we have an occasional raccoon sighting. So even better than her waking up to a cold, stiff chicken, she'll wake up to a bloody massacre in the back yard. Ugh! Does the Humane Society accept poultry? One thing that came to mind is the YouTube video where the kid is playing with his hamster outside and puts it on his head, and an predatory bird of some sort flies over and grabs the thing right off his head. Then there's our dog....she doesn't like any other animal of any sort...maybe we should name it "Scooby Snack". The best reaction was when we brought it home and my husband saw it. I won't talk about his reaction because it should be censored. One thought may be, "You raised chickens when you were a kid...why don't you keep it at your parents' house?" Well, the old chicken house was "converted" into a storage room so that wouldn't work. So here we are with a chicken in a cardboard box.
The first night, the thing was so friggin' loud...first I thought to put the cardboard box on the back porch, but that would pretty much be putting that chick on a silver platter for a cat, raccoon or snake. I took the box and set it on top of the washer in the garage...chicks need a warm place anyway. The next day, Peyton was playing with it in the back yard and as much as I want to hate this chicken, it was so cute how it just follows her around. She would go put him/her behind a tree, run off and that chick would come out looking for her and when he/she would see Peyton, it would haul buns over to her. But this chicken has also made me realize that we have a chicken trainer on our hands. She got a stick, put the chick on it and made the chicken balance on it as she walked around the yard. She has also taught this chicken to perch on her shoulder...Oh Lord.....it's gonna be harder than I thought to get rid of this poultry. So if anyone would like a free chicken let me know....but for future reference, we will decline any invitations for dinner that consist of but not limited to, fried chicken, chicken parmesan, chicken fajitas, chicken cordon bleu, or any other poultry dish.
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