So lately I have been reconnecting with people on Facebook, like just about everyone else in the universe, and have recently started joining in this 'blog craze'. I am really enjoying the blog scene...it gives you really good insight into people. I think people are rather uninhibited while writing on a blog. Its like they can assume a secret identity and type out what they really think and cross their fingers hoping everyone else 'gets it'. Or, maybe that's just what I do. I like to think I keep it real...so I guess I assume everyone else does too.
Recently some of the girls I used to teach as young women have started blogging. Its funny because I was teaching them within the last 5 years, but now they are in college and are full, legal adults. They are typing out their thoughts and insights on life, and some of them are quite enlightened thinkers. I am impressed with their ability to think critically and really dive into the things that matter most in life. And I love how candid they are about their worries and concerns.
However, there is one very shallow discovery I made tonight that I'm not sure I will ever recover from. As I read their blogs, I found myself thinking, ''Oh I remember feeling that way in college...'' or ''Oh if she just sticks it out, this storm will pass...'', or ''I remember how exciting that felt when I was about to do that.'' OH CRAP! I am now the 'mom'-like old person that smiles and says, ''Oh yes! That's exciting honey...I remember when I was your age...'' Only whatever it is I say after that falls on deaf ears because they have to go out and discover it for themselves, and whatever it was that I did in my life is completely useless and obsolete for them because 'that was then'. Oh my canoli...even as I type I am saying things that old people say!
I think I am losing it. I...wait, I can't remember what I made for dinner tonight...oh yeah, I didn't cook dinner. Is that a sign of old age? My grandma doesn't cook anymore...maybe this is how it started.
I think I can't breath...was that my heart pounding just now?? Does anyone know the number for 911?
Crap (edited from the explitive I really wanted to use). I am old. Obsolete. Used up. Totally useless.... Except for those rare occasions when the younger generation decides they need an 'old person fix'.
Sob.
I never even achieved 'cool' like I hoped I would. Now its too late. I am officially a 'grown up' A bonified, boring, and 'know-it-all' grown up. . .
Although I have met some really cool older people. But they don't seem old. Like my Zumba instructor... Who is the epitome of 'cool'. Yeah guess what? She's my age. Yep. Has a 12 year old kid. I'm pretty sure she's actually older than me. . . .but who's counting?
Welp, thats it, I am going to call it a night. Hopefully tomorrow I'll do something kid-like (perhaps sledding or something) and redeem my spirits from the depths of my own reality. Then, after I feel rejeuvenated, I will be saying things like, ''I'm making 40 the new 20!'' And, '' I'll be so cool and sexy that the Zumba instructor will have 'Andi-envy'. ''
Yes..thats my plan.
Wish me luck.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
This Award Means So Much....
I believe I have arrived... I am the proud recipient and now giver of this little known, yet oh-so-prestigious pay-it-forward Stylish Blogger Award. I am not entirely sure what part of my blog would be considered 'stylish', in fact, I'm pretty sure nothing about me can really be considered 'stylish'...especially my workout outfits, but I am honored nonetheless and shall accept. Okay so the rule for accepting this award is I have to tell you 7 things about myself, so here goes:
1. I once high jumped over a 5 foot bar...just once. I was 14 but it still counts because it was still me.
2. Using a bendy pole to vault myself over a bar in college, I only got 4 and a half feet higher. I think I must have been trying to make up for my short Italian genes with those two acrobatic feats...
3. I can't cook...even when it comes in a box.
4. I am 'pretty good' at a lot of things, and not sure I will ever 'master' anything. Maybe I have ADD?
5. I have contamination OCD like "Monk" on TV (only he's not exactly an acurate portrayal but he's funny), so I either wash things too much or won't touch them at all because they are too yucky.
6. I secretly like listening to Eminem and I also own the latest CD by Taylor Swift.
Wow, its like stepping into a confessional-except I'm not Catholic, but...I feel so liberated now.
Alright, now that you know me so well we could be considered BFF's, I get to nominate 6 other bloggers for this fantastic award. I tried to include something for everyone...Here they are in no particular order:
1. Amongst The Americana -This is an honest and very humorous blog. Ernie is the husband of one of my dearest friends who also writes a witty blog for their family. I think a 'man-blog' is just what we need sometimes...helps me to understand what the heck boys are thinking.
2. Birth Smart -My dear friend of 20 years is a Childbirth Educator and Doula. I am so very impressed with what she does with this blog. She is one of those people that has a calming effect on everyone...even when you are high strung and just a little bit crazy like me.
3. The Slow Kitchen - I love her 'natural' philosophy..I think she is Canadian...I stole her from someone else's blog roll...can't remember who...I like this one because she puts in pictures for me to follow so I don't have to translate what a 'pinch' means or whatever. Everyone should know by now that I can't cook, so I look at her blog and think about trying to cook those things but never actually follow through.
4. Brilliant In The Basics (Now the Smith Family Blog)- This is my dear friend Rebecca (wife of 'man-blogger' Ernie) and her very stylish family. I dont know how she made her blog and family so perfect, but she IS in fact Brilliant in the Basics...
5. It's all in the Bag - Rozla is a seamstress that makes very stylish and cute bags. I own my very first ever 'purse-like' bag because of her. I even got to pick out the fabric. I may turn out to be a normal female yet.
6. Laughing all the Way This girl is a brilliant writer. I have known her a very, very, very long time, and I am so very impressed with her writing and her insight. She is now a mother of two, deeply spiritual, honest, and candid about life. I love reading Becca's blog for her strong convictions and fortitude in life.
In order to accept The Stylish Blogger Award, these nominees must do the following:
Write seven things about yourself.
Present the award to six bloggers.
Contact those people.
Create a link back to the person who did this for you.
If these nominees do not wish to accept the nomination, they can donate money to heifer international or ignore this post. The choice is theirs.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!...
That is pretty much the sound I made tonight at my first ever Zumba class. I have a good friend that convinced me to go with her to do this hilarious and fun class...although I am fairly certain that I, myself, was the hilarious part, and jumping around with teenagers and a skinny, energetic, 'perfect-teeth' and 'super-nice' instructor to fast paced latin music, was the 'fun' part.
Before I go on, I have to confess something...I was a Physical Education major in college. Ours was a curriculum designed to teach teachers how to teach kids to be active and fit for life. So, I passed college with flying colors, but am failing on the 'fit for life' bit. . .allow me to illustrate why I simply give myself an F- in 'Practice What You Preach 101' class......
Ok, so...
I arrived at the gym wearing the only clean 'workout gear' I could find. (I blamed this on 'motherhood' in general and a household of 6) My outfit included a pair of capri-length addidas pants, (complete with paint stains from when I tried to paint the house in them and 'not-get-any-paint-on-my-pants'...fail), a huge T-shirt, miss-matched socks, a zip up hoodie, and a bra with half the underwire broken out. Hahahaha. That last part is actually true...hey...it was the only one I could find...and yes I do have more than 2.
So, I was okay with my appearance at first (since my husband told me I looked fine) until our teacher bounced in...AND I found out that our only other classmates consisted of the middle school girls' soccer team...and we also had to take our shoes off....however, I got a 'save' on that one because apparently it is 'cool' to have miss-matched ankle socks. The whole soccer team had on little miss-matched ankle socks just like me so I'm pretty sure I just 'fit in' like I knew what I was doing. . .
So aside from the fact that even though I am 'clear' on the sock front, I learned 5 things about myself, and how my life will go from here -post Zumba class tonight...
1. I will never eat again.
2. I need to go buy a sports bra....preferrably one that holds everything 'in' and 'up' where it all belongs.
3. I will never, ever, ever, (no matter how hard I might try), ever, look sexy when I 'swivel' my hips. . .I have become the short little fat girl in class that everyone watches and says ''Awe...honey...bless your heart for getting out there and giving it a try!''...no...really...not ANYTHING like what the teacher looked like...
4. My husband will NEVER, EVER, under even the most EXTREME circumstances, be permitted to attend or 'observe' my monday night Zumba class. Period.
5. I may need counseling for 'reverse annorexia'...I'm pretty sure that when I see myself, alone, in the comfort of my own home, I think I look better in my mirror than I actually do in real life...the mirrors ALL around the room, and trying to move like our tiny, sexy instructor helped me to see the light on my reality.....
I must admit, that despite the very STEEP learning curve (there is no instruction...you just have to try to follow and keep up), I think I really liked it. It was energetic, fun, and I think I laughed more tonight than I have in a long, long time. AND, I did keep up the whole time...which surprised even me (meaning, I actually moved the whole time and finished the workout....no way I got all the moves right.) Plus, if I end up looking like our instructor at the end (which I'm fairly certain is genetically impossible), I will be freakin' HOT....and then I won't go 'Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!', I'll just go 'ZumBAAAaaa!'
Before I go on, I have to confess something...I was a Physical Education major in college. Ours was a curriculum designed to teach teachers how to teach kids to be active and fit for life. So, I passed college with flying colors, but am failing on the 'fit for life' bit. . .allow me to illustrate why I simply give myself an F- in 'Practice What You Preach 101' class......
Ok, so...
I arrived at the gym wearing the only clean 'workout gear' I could find. (I blamed this on 'motherhood' in general and a household of 6) My outfit included a pair of capri-length addidas pants, (complete with paint stains from when I tried to paint the house in them and 'not-get-any-paint-on-my-pants'...fail), a huge T-shirt, miss-matched socks, a zip up hoodie, and a bra with half the underwire broken out. Hahahaha. That last part is actually true...hey...it was the only one I could find...and yes I do have more than 2.
So, I was okay with my appearance at first (since my husband told me I looked fine) until our teacher bounced in...AND I found out that our only other classmates consisted of the middle school girls' soccer team...and we also had to take our shoes off....however, I got a 'save' on that one because apparently it is 'cool' to have miss-matched ankle socks. The whole soccer team had on little miss-matched ankle socks just like me so I'm pretty sure I just 'fit in' like I knew what I was doing. . .
So aside from the fact that even though I am 'clear' on the sock front, I learned 5 things about myself, and how my life will go from here -post Zumba class tonight...
1. I will never eat again.
2. I need to go buy a sports bra....preferrably one that holds everything 'in' and 'up' where it all belongs.
3. I will never, ever, ever, (no matter how hard I might try), ever, look sexy when I 'swivel' my hips. . .I have become the short little fat girl in class that everyone watches and says ''Awe...honey...bless your heart for getting out there and giving it a try!''...no...really...not ANYTHING like what the teacher looked like...
4. My husband will NEVER, EVER, under even the most EXTREME circumstances, be permitted to attend or 'observe' my monday night Zumba class. Period.
5. I may need counseling for 'reverse annorexia'...I'm pretty sure that when I see myself, alone, in the comfort of my own home, I think I look better in my mirror than I actually do in real life...the mirrors ALL around the room, and trying to move like our tiny, sexy instructor helped me to see the light on my reality.....
I must admit, that despite the very STEEP learning curve (there is no instruction...you just have to try to follow and keep up), I think I really liked it. It was energetic, fun, and I think I laughed more tonight than I have in a long, long time. AND, I did keep up the whole time...which surprised even me (meaning, I actually moved the whole time and finished the workout....no way I got all the moves right.) Plus, if I end up looking like our instructor at the end (which I'm fairly certain is genetically impossible), I will be freakin' HOT....and then I won't go 'Zumba-Boomba-Boom!!!', I'll just go 'ZumBAAAaaa!'
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Aaron Rogers went to my high school....so I am automatically cool...or famous...or something.
Thats all I have to say really. Just that I am totally famous now because of him.
What?
You guys didn't know I was cool? Well let me tell you what an important influence I was on Aaron Rogers!
See...I was number 12 on the Pleasant Valley High School girls basketball team...I'm pretty sure that Aaron must have known that and chosen that number accordingly...I won't accept anyone's comments that also remember that EVERY quarterback out of PV was number 12 or...11 I think. But at any rate I am claiming it. Never mind the fact that I graduated like, what? 8 years before him? Psh. It was my LEGEND...that inspired him.
Need I remind you of the Junior College I attended as well? Thats right...I was learning to pole vault on Butte College's football field before Aaron (..first name is all thats necessary at this point..) even entered high school. I am certain this played a part in his decision to be a 'hometown athelete' (just like his idol...me.) and play for Butte...I mean, seriously...don't you think its just a little bit more than coincidental??
And now, since we've been avid Aaron Rogers fans, all through the Cal days...and lamented with him when Favre just wouldn't freakin' RETIRE already...we even waited out the broken foot incident that helped delay that agonizing retirement/long-drawn-out-dog-and-pony-show...NOW....now, we can claim our superbowl ring. AND number 12 is officially the superbowl MVP. Thank you very much. . . no, no....no need to wait in line, I'll be handing out signatures all week...
With fame comes great responsibility, and I will be sure and treat this limelight with a sober and humble demeanor...I know Aaron will try to say it was all me...he's so humble, but we all know that...no no..He deserves ALL the credit. . .I was just doing what ANY normal Chico resident and Pleasant Valley High school student would have done....because...UH! UNGOWA! VIKINGS GOT THE POWER!
What?
You guys didn't know I was cool? Well let me tell you what an important influence I was on Aaron Rogers!
See...I was number 12 on the Pleasant Valley High School girls basketball team...I'm pretty sure that Aaron must have known that and chosen that number accordingly...I won't accept anyone's comments that also remember that EVERY quarterback out of PV was number 12 or...11 I think. But at any rate I am claiming it. Never mind the fact that I graduated like, what? 8 years before him? Psh. It was my LEGEND...that inspired him.
Need I remind you of the Junior College I attended as well? Thats right...I was learning to pole vault on Butte College's football field before Aaron (..first name is all thats necessary at this point..) even entered high school. I am certain this played a part in his decision to be a 'hometown athelete' (just like his idol...me.) and play for Butte...I mean, seriously...don't you think its just a little bit more than coincidental??
And now, since we've been avid Aaron Rogers fans, all through the Cal days...and lamented with him when Favre just wouldn't freakin' RETIRE already...we even waited out the broken foot incident that helped delay that agonizing retirement/long-drawn-out-dog-and-pony-show...NOW....now, we can claim our superbowl ring. AND number 12 is officially the superbowl MVP. Thank you very much. . . no, no....no need to wait in line, I'll be handing out signatures all week...
With fame comes great responsibility, and I will be sure and treat this limelight with a sober and humble demeanor...I know Aaron will try to say it was all me...he's so humble, but we all know that...no no..He deserves ALL the credit. . .I was just doing what ANY normal Chico resident and Pleasant Valley High school student would have done....because...UH! UNGOWA! VIKINGS GOT THE POWER!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sabotage...and fat girls have more fun.
I'm not talking about Taylor Swift's kind of sabotage...I can hardly steal anyone's boyfriend in my current condition...I'm talking about 'kid sabotage'. I think kids sabotage their moms from the very beginning. Its like they say...at the point of conception...'your life is now...OVER as you know it.'
Your body becomes their's...if you are not puking your guts up, you are exhausted. Then, they pick the most uncomfortable route out of you possible. You get stretched, ripped, cut, torn, poked, and prodded, and told it is perfectly normal to feel that much pain. THEN, what was previously a set of glorious man magnets becomes an exploding mess of baby feeders that suddenly sag pathetically to your waist when the little sabateur is done with them. Not to mention the expansion of said waistline that, for the majority of women, never really goes back to normal....and is never-ever-ever worthy of a swim suit again. . .don't even get me started on those irritating women who just 'bounce back' to their pre-pregnant jeans within a month of delivery...I'll be taking THAT one up with the Lord at the pearly gates when I die...but I digress. (I once heard a good friend say that at a baby shower for a 'skinny mom' ...it was hilarious)
THEN, after you have become an unrecognizable mere shadow of the sexiness you were before (given you had much to begin with)...you get sabotaged in your sleeping patterns. You no longer require 8 hours...you can easily get by on the 3 or 4 hours you have been reduced to...only you are really just half sleeping because you are paranoid the child will stop breathing if you ACTUALLY sleep. . .
For me...this happened 4 times in 6 years...remarkably I'm not a 'quadruple mess'...after 2 nothing much could be done to make it any worse anyway... So, now I have gotten 3 of them into school and just a 3 year old at home. . .and an 'extra'. They are incredibly cute, but MASTER sabateurs! Now that I am just a year away from total freedom to get some alone time back...I want to try and lose some of this weight that they all sabotaged me with in the first place.
Enter Jillian Micheals.
I was having a hard time getting motivated to work out because, as you know, I am sleep deprived lately...just want to sleep. But per Nathan's (winner of said chocolate bar by the way)suggestion, and some encouragement from facebook friends, I decided to work out and maybe get my energy up.
For the first 5 minutes of the workout, the girls decided to try the workout with me...but I nearly stepped on them both a hundred times so they decided to go behind the couch. So I buckled down and started working hard. About 10 minutes later I realized they were no longer down stairs and were completely quiet. Then I heard a 'clank' in the bathtub. I called to them with no response, and went up the stairs to investigate. They were both buck naked in a rising tub of bubble bath, and dripping wet.
End workout.
So-- sabotage. I think its like a punishment or something. Really? I mean what did I and thousands of other women do to be given such terrible genes and told we just have to work harder to get in shape? Maybe that's what I get for thinking that making the babies was fun....?
Consolation for all the sabotage. . . skinny girls didn't have as much fun. Maybe I can keep it to myself at the pearly gates after all.
Your body becomes their's...if you are not puking your guts up, you are exhausted. Then, they pick the most uncomfortable route out of you possible. You get stretched, ripped, cut, torn, poked, and prodded, and told it is perfectly normal to feel that much pain. THEN, what was previously a set of glorious man magnets becomes an exploding mess of baby feeders that suddenly sag pathetically to your waist when the little sabateur is done with them. Not to mention the expansion of said waistline that, for the majority of women, never really goes back to normal....and is never-ever-ever worthy of a swim suit again. . .don't even get me started on those irritating women who just 'bounce back' to their pre-pregnant jeans within a month of delivery...I'll be taking THAT one up with the Lord at the pearly gates when I die...but I digress. (I once heard a good friend say that at a baby shower for a 'skinny mom' ...it was hilarious)
THEN, after you have become an unrecognizable mere shadow of the sexiness you were before (given you had much to begin with)...you get sabotaged in your sleeping patterns. You no longer require 8 hours...you can easily get by on the 3 or 4 hours you have been reduced to...only you are really just half sleeping because you are paranoid the child will stop breathing if you ACTUALLY sleep. . .
For me...this happened 4 times in 6 years...remarkably I'm not a 'quadruple mess'...after 2 nothing much could be done to make it any worse anyway... So, now I have gotten 3 of them into school and just a 3 year old at home. . .and an 'extra'. They are incredibly cute, but MASTER sabateurs! Now that I am just a year away from total freedom to get some alone time back...I want to try and lose some of this weight that they all sabotaged me with in the first place.
Enter Jillian Micheals.
I was having a hard time getting motivated to work out because, as you know, I am sleep deprived lately...just want to sleep. But per Nathan's (winner of said chocolate bar by the way)suggestion, and some encouragement from facebook friends, I decided to work out and maybe get my energy up.
For the first 5 minutes of the workout, the girls decided to try the workout with me...but I nearly stepped on them both a hundred times so they decided to go behind the couch. So I buckled down and started working hard. About 10 minutes later I realized they were no longer down stairs and were completely quiet. Then I heard a 'clank' in the bathtub. I called to them with no response, and went up the stairs to investigate. They were both buck naked in a rising tub of bubble bath, and dripping wet.
End workout.
So-- sabotage. I think its like a punishment or something. Really? I mean what did I and thousands of other women do to be given such terrible genes and told we just have to work harder to get in shape? Maybe that's what I get for thinking that making the babies was fun....?
Consolation for all the sabotage. . . skinny girls didn't have as much fun. Maybe I can keep it to myself at the pearly gates after all.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Sleep Deprivation...and a contest to fix it...with REALLY great prizes...
So, for as long as I can remember, I have had trouble sleeping. I can remember laying awake as a kid...finally I'd get up and lumber out to the kitchen for a drink of water and there was my dad...also awake...watching some mind numbing TV show 'till he was 'tired enough' to go back to sleep.
His mother is the same way. She is up at like 4am everyday. I can remember going to grandma's house for a visit and if you got up to go potty anytime after 5AM, you came back to a made bed and it was time for breakfast. She is all of 4 foot 11, but her personality is about 6 foot 7. Anyway, the sleep thing is definately a family trait. Just the other day I caught my grandma online at 2:30am. Apparently she has a standing bridge game with people across the country at that time. Amazing.
So for 3 or 4 days now I have been up past midnight...then wake up at 2:30 or 3am, then nod off and wake again at 5am...then nod off and wake again at 7 ish to get kids ready for the day. Then when I am home with the 3 year olds I HAVE to close my eyes for 20 or 30 minutes around 9:30am and let Diego take them on an 'animal adventure'. I've always got one eye open though because last time I did this with both eyes shut they snuck in the kitchen and spread dry rice crispies all over my living room.
So I am thinking I need to structure my day with activity so that I am just wiped out at 9pm.
I am taking submissions for sample day schedules. I would like each hour marked on said schedule...I think my old companions might be good candidates for this job as they are well versed in the Franklin Covey planning and scheduling that I am best at following. Plus many if them have kids at home. Anyone is welcome to give me suggestions though. . .I have a hard time coming up with ideas because all my brain can come up with at this point is 'take a nap'...but that is not effective whatsoever as you can see. SO. Game on...what does YOUR day look like? I think the winner....the one with the best 'stay at home mom' day schedule, should get a prize...I will send you your favorite chocolate bar in the mail. Mine is Skor bars. Just in case you were wondering. Come on thats worth it isnt it?
It's win-win. You do the brain work and planning...I just follow it and send you chocolate. Brilliant.
Ready sets go.
His mother is the same way. She is up at like 4am everyday. I can remember going to grandma's house for a visit and if you got up to go potty anytime after 5AM, you came back to a made bed and it was time for breakfast. She is all of 4 foot 11, but her personality is about 6 foot 7. Anyway, the sleep thing is definately a family trait. Just the other day I caught my grandma online at 2:30am. Apparently she has a standing bridge game with people across the country at that time. Amazing.
So for 3 or 4 days now I have been up past midnight...then wake up at 2:30 or 3am, then nod off and wake again at 5am...then nod off and wake again at 7 ish to get kids ready for the day. Then when I am home with the 3 year olds I HAVE to close my eyes for 20 or 30 minutes around 9:30am and let Diego take them on an 'animal adventure'. I've always got one eye open though because last time I did this with both eyes shut they snuck in the kitchen and spread dry rice crispies all over my living room.
So I am thinking I need to structure my day with activity so that I am just wiped out at 9pm.
I am taking submissions for sample day schedules. I would like each hour marked on said schedule...I think my old companions might be good candidates for this job as they are well versed in the Franklin Covey planning and scheduling that I am best at following. Plus many if them have kids at home. Anyone is welcome to give me suggestions though. . .I have a hard time coming up with ideas because all my brain can come up with at this point is 'take a nap'...but that is not effective whatsoever as you can see. SO. Game on...what does YOUR day look like? I think the winner....the one with the best 'stay at home mom' day schedule, should get a prize...I will send you your favorite chocolate bar in the mail. Mine is Skor bars. Just in case you were wondering. Come on thats worth it isnt it?
It's win-win. You do the brain work and planning...I just follow it and send you chocolate. Brilliant.
Ready sets go.
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