Mama In Stilettos

Hot Rocks

We decided to join a cookout the other weekend at the most beautiful park in the local area. 

OK..So the park was beautiful, but where we had the cookout? Reminded me of camping.  There was no grass on the ground and there was a hibachi standing close to a picnic table.  Apparently, this is considered a "picnic grove".  I considered it camping.  Bugs were sucking my blood and dirt was gathering in my designer sandals.  Not to mention the NUMEROUS times I tripped and just about killed myself on the exposed roots from the trees in the area.  No sunlight filtered through the trees. It was like twilight all day because there were so many trees.

And everyone was sitting on those fold up camping chairs.

That sealed the deal for me.

I was camping.

And I LOATHE camping.

My idea of camping?  Is sitting on my back porch with no blanket.  Or staying at a local inn that hasn't been renovated.  That, my friends, is camping.

I WILL NOT camp, nor will I ever consider the idea of camping.

Yes, my friends lure me with their stories and their fancy dancy campers.  But I will tell you one thing: Every time that I go camping? It rains. No. It pours. No. The HEAVENS OPEN UP. And no matter what I am doing? I am wet, disgusting and feel dank. And the bathrooms? Don't even get me started.  Let's just say that I have held myself from going for unholy amounts of time just to avoid crossing the camping bathroom barriers.

Kudos for all who embrace camping.  I will never understand you, but I'll give you a fist bump..With some fireworks..You're crazy, but good for you.

Anyway. So I'm at this camping/cookout minding my own business after particiating in my share of picnic food when..

THUD.

INTENSE PAIN AND AGONY.

INVOLUNTARY TEARS AND QUIVERING LIPS.

What happened?

I was hit with a rock.

And it wasn't just any rock.   And it wasn't a pebble. It was a ROCK people.  Picture a rock the size of a small onion. THAT was the rock.

And it hit me in the back of my ribs.  Do you know what is in the back of the ribs? RIBS. No fat, hardly any muscle..BONES.

After I recovered from the stars I saw from the agony of pain.  I experienced what I would call white hot rage.

Who would do something like this?

I was sitting in a group of people! A circle of friends, mind you!

Who would haul a boulder in my direction and possibly break my bones?

A frickin' 10 year old. That's who.

What was he doing hauling rocks towards a group of people I will never know...

Later my mother tells me..."Well, Sarah..They say he might have autism."

So I say, "So that gives him the license to throw rocks at unsuspecting people? I have an anger problem. Does that give me license to kick holes in walls? Cause if it does I have some renovating to do."

And yes...I had a sleepless night filled with pain and muscle spasms.

I HATE CAMPING!

Asthmar

So after many weeks and such of my 18 month old coughing, hacking, wheezing and altogether sounding like a 70 year old smoker..She has been diagnosed with asthma.

And we went through a 2.5 hour attack on Sunday night. It was hell.  An 18 months old coughing like she had emphysema for over 2 hours is not good for one's mood or complexion.  Did I feel bad for her? Yes.  My heart melted.  Was I pissed because my sleep was apparently not going to happen? Heck yes.  Why me? Why do these things happen to me? The other night I was dealing with a 3 year old with severe stomach cramps and poop coming out his booty like a freaking faucet. Yeah. Not going back to Friendlys anytime soon.  Certainly was NOT a friendly experience all around.

So I brought little Cam Bam to the doctors after her bout of NOT BEING ABLE TO BREATHE to the doctors and they hand me every contraption necessary.  Which I am familiar with because I, also, am plagued with the dreaded "ASTHMAR", as my friends lovingly call it..Oh great..Here comes ASTHMAR.  Kinda like we made asthma a person and gave him a personality.  "I can't laugh too hard right now...Asthmar is visiting."  Wow. That sounds like he's Hindu or something.  Anyhoo.

Right now I am a slave to the freaking nebulizer and the 4-7 treatments a day I have to administer to an 18 month old.  I repeat. An 18 month old.  Have you ever tried to administer a smoking pipe that makes a loud noise to an 18 month old? I didn't think so. It's like wearing open toed shoes (especially WHITE ones) in winter. It just isn't happening in my world. At least without a fight..And I am a bulldog.

Cambria is doing well with her treatments so far.  Tonight we did have to hold her down for a bit and blow the medicine in her face..I believe this is called a "shottie" in the drug world.  So, yes, I was giving "shotties" to my 18 month old. But the greatest is when she actually "smokes" the little "pipe".  Am I going to video it?? Heck yes! I could probably make a killing constructing my own antidrug commerical!

This is all a bit frustrating as she spits out ALL oral medication (yes...calling doctor tomorrow since she has had NO doses of the oral steriods..But her clothes?? They are probably growing bigger by the second with the amount she has spit out on them..hahaha)

And, yet another thing to add to Cam Bam's list o' drama.  She fell at the "Y" today and gave herself a big 'ol shiner.  Yup. No one knows how she did it.  She just fell into some book cases and out she came with a black eye.  She's a royal wreck if there ever was one.

But the worst?

Was when Chris walked in the door tonight and said:

"Hey crack baby! When you gonna smoke your crack pipe?"

Oh my Lord.  I REALLY hope the neighbors didn't hear that...ALthough with my luck and with the door wide open? The ENTIRE neighborhood heard.

Bring you Down to Chinatown

So I had quite the weekend.  So much so that I am still recovering.  Kids go down for a nap and so do I.  It's sad, really.  I used to be so full of energy and life.  Now? That I'm 30? I feel like an empty shell of which something has sucked the life out of me with a straw.  Maybe like one of those tropical drinks served in coconuts with the umbrellas? Except the coconut is empty and the umbrella is left at the bottom to rot. Yeah. That's exactly how I feel.

On Saturday I took a bus trip to NYC ( what's up NYC?!?)...Except that the bus left the parking lot at 7am.  And my friend picked me up at my house at 6am.  Which meant I was up at 5:30am.  I seriously do not think I have been up that early since my children were newborns.  And even then it was extremely painful and felt like a form of torture.  This is another reason why I will not be producing any more offspring. 
So here I was at this ungodly hour gulping down coffee as if my life depended on it. All I wanted was to zone out for a while on the bus and take my time waking up.  I take a while to actually mentally be on my game.  I really don't even know my name first thing in the mornings and I think I slur my speech for the first hour that I am awake.  So I sat in my seat with my coffee and english muffin and started to zone.
Don't you know that the woman running this bus trip wanted to play an effing GAME?!? In the morning?!?! Are you kidding me?!? And a raffle?!? I wanted to shoot someone.  And the game involved passing these freaking horses around the bus like we were simulating the Kentucky Derby. Yup.  Just wanted me and my coffee and my Ipod and I have horses in my hands. And a lady shouting over the loud speaker of the bus.  And the speaker kept screaming with feedback, so that was a bonus I didn't pay for.
So we arrive in NYC at about 10am (still pretty gosh darn early in my book) and my friend (BFF), Jill and I hit the pavement.  We grabbed breakfast and then made our way onto Fifth Avenue.  Also known as "Mama's Greatest Place on Earth"..Sephora, MAC, Aldo, Pucci, Coach, Tiffany, Cartier, And the list goes on and on.  My eyes glitter when I am on Fifth Ave and I think I may resemble something looking like a caged animal.  I also develop ADHD while on Fifth as my mind and body pull me in all sorts of directions at once..."Go into Coach! No! Wait! Make your way into Tiffanys! Oh! Look at Sephora and how beautiful it is! And OH MY GOD! There is Saks!" And so it goes with me and Fifth Ave.
Of course I HAD to travel into Saks and make my way to the 8th floor...The floor that holds all of my hopes and dreams.  All of my desires and all of my life's promise. The floor of DESIGNER SHOES.  And there they were all glinting and winking at me.  Calling my name and begging me to give them a home.  Christian Louboutin had a pair of high heeled docksiders that I just about FAINTED over and had to take a hit off of my inhaler just to touch them. They were the most adorable thing I have seen in a looooooong time.  Really?  The pics do not give them justice.  To see them in person is truly breathtaking. 
After Saks and after I regained my composure, we had lunch with my cousin, Jenna and had a blast at a Mexican joint down on Broadway.  It was a lunch of girl talk and giggling.  So wonderful to see her and she looked gorgeous as usual.  We told Jenna that we wanted to go into Chinatown to check out the "purses" and shopping .  She was down with helping us get there and helped us navigate the subway.  Now....First on the subway, I was paranoid about seeing rats because I had heard that the city is overrun with them.  So I was keeping my eyes peeled and was ready to scream and jump on a seat whether it be occupied or not to get away from the rat.  We all know how fond I am of anything to do with mice, or mouse-like creatures.  And second on the subway, anytime anyone coughed or sneezed my mind was screaming in alarm "SWINE FLU!!!!!!! SWINE FLU!!!!"  Even though I feel like I'm not afraid of the swine flu, one cannot ignore such things in confined spaces and when sharing the same air with people who may or may not Lysol their bodies.
Jill and I get to Chinatown and as soon as I step off the subway I have a man in my ear "You want Louis Vuitton? Chanel? Coach? Tiffany?" I turn in alarm. Whhhhhhhhhaaaaaat? Do I want them? YES! We continue to walk and these voices are in my ears from various people and little laminated pictures are shoved in my hands. "You want one of these? (pointing to the Louis Vuitton bags on the laminated page) I go and get it for you.." Oh man. This is perfect! People bringing stuff to me on the streets!
We wandered into a shop that was selling some odds and ends.  A man approached us and asked "You want to see Coach?" HECK YES! So we were lead to a back room.  I swear. A door opened up from NOWHERE after the man shouted something into his walkie talkie and pressed the doorbell.  All I could think was "OK..If I'm being sold into sex slavery...At least I will have a Coach purse." We went into a room that was FULL OF DESIGNER purses of every make, model and size.  I was in awe.  Of course they were fake, but they were still a sight..And, hey, no one has to know that it's not REAL..Right? Hey! We're in a recession! So we look around at the purses and then discover that we can bargain for the purses.  Hence NOT PAY FULL PRICE.  They say "You pay $60"  Ummmmm...no. I got that purse for $28 thank you.  I am the ultimate bargain shopper.  It's like I belong in Chinatown. 
I think we probably went in about 15 of these "secret rooms" and each one amazed me more.  Some we in basements..Some were in attics, some were in trap doors and still others were like magic.  They appeared out of nowhere.  And the police? We swarming everywhere.  Apparently it's illegal it SELL the fake purses, but legal to BUY the purses.  If you can figure that one out, let me know because I'm still reeling from it. Sometimes we had to wait inside one of the "rooms" until policec cleared the vacinity and then we were let out..Phew! Then I went into a "room" went out and then changed my mind and wanted a wallet I saw....I went to go back in "YOU NOT GO BACK IN THERE! POLICE THERE!" I turned and sure enough..There was a police car right in front of me as I was trying to bang down the "wall aka door" in front of me.  Boy.  I could have blown the whole covert operation with my wiley ways.
By the end of Chinatown, my senses were overwhelmed and my legs were killing me from huffing it in and out of all of the secret chambers and being all 007. Hey, I've always wanted to be a Bond girl.  And in the end, I scored some sweet deals and had an amazing day AWAY from the children.  I've never been away from them for an entire day, so this was a first and, I'll admit...I'll be looking forward to the next. Hey, a girl needs her time too..Right??  That and a pair of Christian Louboutins.

ps..DO NOT get me started about the bus ride back in which the most hideous movie was played at about 10,000 decibles. 

The Dressing Room

I really think that there should be a "code of ethics and behavior" for dressing rooms.

For example:  I decided with my new pilgrimage to find anything resembling a pre-baby body, I needed a new workout wardrobe.  The high school gym uniform just isn't cutting it anymore.  I'm sick of all the "up and downs" I'm getting at the gym and all the "once overs" are getting annoying.  So...A trainer at the gym suggested I try Marshalls.

Let me be clear here. I never have shopped at Marshalls in my life. Probably because I am a snob and a label whore and I insist on wearing clothes from certain retailers.  But, times are tough and I wasn't going to spend $60 on a pair of pants that I was going to drip sweat into and rip to shreds with my hectic turbo kickboxing.  So, I took the plunge and headed over to Marshalls.  First, I was assaulted by all the freaking fluorescent lighting..I felt like I wanted to put on my sunglasses for goodness sake. I couldn't see anything. It was 8pm and I felt as though I was looking at the sun at high noon.

Oh well.  If the rumor was true I could score some Nike pants (which ALL the women were wearing at the gym) for a mere $16 instead of the near $40.  I also needed some t shirts that wouldn't mind smelling like a locker room for their entire lives. So I ventured over to the "Sportswear section". And the clothes are hung by SIZE! on LONG rows.  I felt like I was shopping- buffet style.  Not only that, but people could TELL which size I was looking in..There was no hiding here, folks..If you're an XL..Well, sorry, but the WHOLE STORE is going to know because everything is sectioned off...And if you're a size 1..Well, just get out..Get the heck out. Go eat at Olive Garden across the street..Anyways, Marshalls is pretty much "sizist", meaning they don't carry many small sizes.  This, I noticed.

So I grabbed some Nike paraphernaliaa and headed to the:

DRESSING ROOM

A girl counted my clothes and gave me a tag.  Ok..I can handle that..Never happened to me before, but ok.  Then I saw them.

The rooms.

They were in a maze-like pattern and with all of the doors open, it looked a bit like a carnival fun house..without the fun..And certainly without the cotton candy. 

I blindingly made my way to a room and went in.

I went into a place smaller than the size of my closet.  I could not even turn around with my puffer jacket on and my purse and all of my clothes and my tag.  And there was NO PLACE to organize all of my things.

Rule 1.  Supply Adequate Space in Dressing Room for Patrons...And Adequate Hooks to Organize Clothes/Belongings.

OCD kicks in.

Then I look at the floor. omg.

filth with clearance stickers littering under the doorway. Also a fast food wrapper. 

Rule 2. Cleanliness.  Please no evidence of STDs on the floor..Or evidence of Taco Bell.

Rule 3.  Provide Adequate Lighting and not lighting that assaults ALL senses.

I looked at myself in the mirror (under the VERY BAD lighting) and told myself to muscle through this.  In the name of Nike and in the name of sweat.  And in the name of taming my ever growing problem of cellulite.

I started to dismantle myself. Without touching the floor.  I would take out one pant leg and replace my foot into my shoe. I had a pretty good system going on and I got really good at not touching the floor with anything.  Even the bottoms of the pants.

Then I got a "roommate", as I would call her.  I would call her my "roommate" because probably .25" of cardboard separated us from seeing each other in all of our glory.  I was ok until she started to sing.

Rule 4. Respect other patrons..NO SINGING (unless you're someone like Britney Spears..Then I would expect a free full out singing and dancing concert..in the dressing room)

And you know what she was singing?? Eminem..Words? Sure! "So crack a bottle..Let your body waddle.." Yup. I am so not kidding. My mouth hung open. One does NOT sing about bodies waddling in DRESSING ROOMS.

She also was yelling for her friend to get her different sizes..Screaming about her mother not letting her wear the jeans she wants.  Then complaining to her friend that she wanted to find a "leather skirt" but not "real leather" because isn't that made out of dogs?? ugh. I wanted earplugs.  And half of the conversation was in a different language, so for all I knew they could have been planning to take over the entire store...Or been planning to order a pizza delivered into the dressing room...Hey, evidence proves that meals have been eaten in the dressing rooms here.

Then she did it.

Rule 5. No passing gas.

She farted.  And, my friends, I was gasping for air that I didn't even want to breathe.  I could have cut the air with a knife.  I stared at myself in the mirror and threw a bit of a tantrum.  Ripped down some clothes (that hit the floor-not trying THOSE on).  And jumped up and down a little.

That was it for me.  The clothes that I had tried on were ill fitting and the lighting drove me batty.  I found in the heap 1 pair of pants that I could live with and made my escape from the dressing room from hell. 

I couldn't get out of there fast enough.  First to get some oxygen and secondly to wait for my "roommate".  I wanted to put a face to that smell.

I lurked in the men's section until she came out.  And when she did? I so wanted to speak to her about a certain code of behavior one must maintain in a dressing room, but you know?? Sometimes I just have to let things go.  I paid for my pair of pants and walked out into the parking lot where I instantly felt so much more normal. No hazing myself with lights and no racks upon racks of clothes that will never find homes...Although, with my experience, maybe it takes all kinds to give those clothes their homes..Just not me and my home.  The assault on the senses was too much for me to bear, in every way imaginable.

Happy Birthday

Today, my son, you turn 3 years old.  I look at you and your chocolate eyes and gigantic eyelashes and can't even believe how far we have come.  You are still the baby boy who made me sick as a dog for the first 4 months of pregnancy, but also gave me the most precious gift of being my first born.  You will forever hold this place in my heart.  You were mommy's first everything.  First ultrasound where I saw you and your little hands waving at me on the screen, first flutter of movement in my abdomen, first hard core rib kick that should have told me a little about your personality.

You are a strong little boy with determination and a mind of your own.  You are forming opinions and are able to express them to me everyday.  And your vocabulary astounds me, as you find your little sayings. "What are you talkin' bout, mommy?"  With that puzzled face and furrowed brow.  And your favorite things to do over and over again.  Cars all over my living room as you bend over in intense concentration lining them up by size and color.  And a dump truck racing all over my kitchen.

You know your colors (almost!), you can count and can sing the alphabet.  Nicholas, you are my shining star.  A smart, intelligent boy who respects others with his impeccable manners "please and thank yous" are always said..."Excuse me.." As he passes in front of someone.. "Excuse me.." "What happened Nicky?" "I farted, mommy."

You are able to express emotion (as we know by the tantrums!), but also by your loving comments.."I love you."  "Kisses, mommy?" You are very intense when you express emotion, but can also be reasoned with (if we are not past the breaking point and not TIRED!).

You adore your bed (which is a boat!) and take lovely naps in the afternoons, go to bed early and I have to wake you in the mornings to "play with the kids" (ie..go to the gym).  You are most definitely a sleeper, like your mommy.  And you sleep with your "puppy", a little dog with a blanket attached to him.

You are a creature of routine and thrive in things being on a schedule.  Chocolate milk in the mornings and water by the bedside everynight.  You follow the rules and get upset if the rules are not followed by others, but  you work well with others and are starting to form friendships and form relationships with people with whom you love.  You are trusting more and learning to let more people into your world.

You are ALMOST potty trainied.  Let's take the next big step together so mommy doesn't have to clean your disgusting dirty diapers anymore..k?

Nicholas, you are the love of my life.  I breathe for you and I am so proud of you and what you are becoming.  I pray that God will guide you in whatever you do and that you will trust Him in all things.  Mommy loves you with all her heart.

Happy Birthday, my love.

Roid Rage

This, my, friends is a very HEATED argument over a pic one of my friends posted on her Facebook account.  This pic was a nice family picture at Easter.  The characters involved? Me (of course)..Walter (her ex-boyfriend for reasons you will very soon read) and Alicia, who, poor thing, doesn't get involved.

I include this on my personal space because I am deeply disturbed by this individual and his demented, narcisistic way of thinking.  It is exactly what is wrong with our male dominated society and what is wrong with self esteem problems.  He also demonstrates complete disrespect for me and my opinions.  He ego takes over the entire account, as does his need for complete control. 

What infuriates me is that these people exist and are giving others the idea that they don't have a place in society unless they are pursuing perfection, instead of embracing each other's flaws.  This is what makes us all unique and different.  Am I pursuing a healthy lifestyle? Yes. Am I pushing it on other people so I can feel validated? Absolutely not. Everyone has a right to their own decisions and everyone has a right to respect.

So this is what I say: Read the argument and weigh in.

And this argument is HEATED...Again HEATED. Read with caution...And hydrate appropriately.

 

 

 

Walter Santoni at 12:13pm April 20

awwww... how cute,I can tell you lost weight..... your sister looks nice too!

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 1:24pm April 20

Who cares about your weight?!?!? You are HOTT no matter how you are..And,girl, you HOTT!

Walter Santoni at 4:44pm April 20

She cares about her weight, and her health...as everyone should !!!..... she is doing a show next year in April so we are keeping track......

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 5:23pm April 20

The fact that you brought up her weight in a picture is so stereotypical. And feeds right into our society focusing on women and their image. Maybe it should be Alicia keeping track of her own health plan, as it is empowering. I should know. I am at the gym 6 days a week and it's people like you who infuriate me to no end.

Walter Santoni at 9:42am April 21

HEELOO I brought it up cuz she is doing a show,hheellooooo and me and Lou and helping her train. Obviously the image us healthy people are giving out is not working, if we are the most unhealthiest and fattest nation in the world...so its obviously not working... People like me? People like me are the ones that help motivate you and keep you in ... Read Moretrack, we are your inspiration...... so sweetie dont open you mouth without knowing whats going on... you didnt know she was doing a show and you didnt know that I am training her along with a friend.... and you girls say that im giving that bad image....im trying to give you life and health by teaching you how to love yourself, loving yourself first is the only way to learn how to love others

Walter Santoni at 9:43am April 21

sshhhhhh shhhhh not another word....thats a wrap, end of subject,,,shhhhh what did I say...shhhhhh LOL

Raza Sheikh at 10:02am April 21

did you get hurt? I don't think walter did

Raza Sheikh at 10:08am April 21

Walter you are inspiration to me and Alicia.. Did we tell you we love you? Thanks for keeping us on track :) I didn't want to jump in this mess but i wasn't going to let some ignorant people tag team you.. Oh and Alicia can't wait to see you Saturday sweetie. Hope your having a great day at work :P

Walter Santoni at 10:43am April 21

I dont mean to come like this sweetie, but ignorance makes me angry.... we are willing to tell people to stop drinking... Read More , to stop smoking, to stop doing drugs, but God forbid we tell someone to take care of their health, workout, and eat right.... no thats is just wrong, come on people...open your eyes.... sugar (carbs ) is a drug, when your body gets it , it wants more.... thats the craving you get, you have to control that and take charge of your life.. always make time for your health, your family and for God.

Walter Santoni at 11:05am April 21

I am very nice to her...she is a great friend , and I want her to take charge in this part of her life !

Walter Santoni at 12:53pm April 21

Im willing to help you to, con ese clase cuerpo que tenias.... so you can get it back.

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 2:17pm April 21

This is exactly why you are her EX, Walter. Your MOUTH. And your UNHEALTHY obsession with your weight, looks and image. And what other people look like. It's sad, really. All you have is your obsession with the gym and working out. NOTHING UPSTAIRS. Alicia is a smart, extremely intelligent woman who can take charge of her own body. Good for her ... Read Morefor asking you for help since that's all you do. And making comments about me? Heck no. You don't even know me and what I'm about, sweetie. What do you have to show for your life, Walter? A few Spanish phrases and big muscles? Good for you, man. Good for you.

Patria Luciano-Nazario at 3:03pm April 21

That's right Raza ignorant and unhappy people!

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 3:26pm April 21

I definitely wouldn't consider myself ignorant, if I am who you are speaking about. I do know what I am talking about when it comes to fitness. I spend 1.5 hours hard core in the gym 6 days a week and my husband has a degree in nutrition...So I definitely am not in the dark. Definitely not an expert, but I do care about my body. And unhappy?? ... Read MoreMaybe some days when I don't get enough sleep after chasing around my 1 year old and my 3 year old. BUt no, I am a happy and fulfilled person. What gets me upset is when people have only one mind set and are militant and hurt people in the process.

Walter Santoni at 3:57pm April 21

sweetie you really must have a problem with your weight if it hurst that bad, like they say the truth hurts.... obessed? sweetie this is my job, Im going for my PRO card this Nov...to be a Professional bodybuilder.. so its my Profession.....yeah you heard it , national this Nov... so I have plenty to show....and the money will pour down as a PRO... Read More...... thats what I have to show for it.... .you have to practice what you preach and you have to look the part...so you can have an many degrees but if you dont look that part your input has no merit...... because its about disipline you cant teach it if you dont practice it yourself...... You were the one that started talking without knowing what was going on..... so before you say something check your sources first....and know what you are talking about....

Walter Santoni at 4:17pm April 21

Raza tell her how much we are are going to make as Pro... more money she has seen all her life LOL ! magazine, movies, guest appearces. get a sponsor and travel all over the world... yes that the life of PRO sweetie... My little bro is going to be in musclemag this Nov..(big magazine), and I was offered a movie part.... hmmmm nothing to show for... Read More.... sweetie go back to your stressfull desk job and let us Future Pros have fun with life...dont worry we will have fun for you !

All I was doing was trying to help her to give her 10 + years of experince as a personal trainer and Nationally ranked bodybuilder. So how can you put me down when I am just trying to help...wow you are drepressed when you have nothing else to do than to talk about about a good guy that is helping her out for FREE when I would charge 40 dollars an hour.... this is done...try to reply if you can... but do you really have anything to say...lol naw I didnt think so.... LMAO

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 4:22pm April 21

LOL...Yeah..So what you're going to be body building when you're 50,60,70? And a problem with my weight? omg. seriously. I don't think a size 2 is a problem. And sweetie? I was commenting about how Alicia looks great..You are the one who got nasty and started answering for her. I think it's great to be concerned with one's health and wellness, but ... Read Morethere is a line. You are just one of those bitter meat heads who have to lift weights because you can't handle anything else. Your brain is incapable.

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 4:35pm April 21

Ummmm..Yeah. I'm done with you. You're ego is too big for any computer. And honey, I don't have to work because my husband is graduating a doctor. I don't have a desk job. I work when and with who I want to.
And Walter? I met you once and totally don't remember you ever being like this. Too bad you've changed.

Alicia Rodriguez at 5:13pm April 21

Wow is all I can say

Walter Santoni at 9:24pm April 21

again check your sources and do your homeworks, once we retired after 10 -15 years, we invest our money into our own supplement company or magazine.... all the supplement you see at the health stores, those companys are own by Pro bodybuilders honey.... do your homework... even become a promoter for shows, a judge or something of that nature and ... Read Moreyou still can makre a great great living doing something I love..... still traveling all over the world.... some have even gone in to doing movies full time... so there is alot alot of options once you retire...... anything else hun...come on give it up .... This is Walt you are messing with LMAO.... a nutritionist is not a doctor honey.........im actually in plans of doing that as well.... would like to open my own full gym for unscale and professional atheletes.....using my name as a Pro bodybuilder and nutritionist...but thats is when I retire

Walter Santoni at 9:26pm April 21

Alicia, you know ****** is doing that as well he is going back to school partime to be a nutritionist... while being a pro.... Are you coming to his show the NY PRO in NY May 16th... we will get back stage passes ....he is going to make splash his rookie year... the boy is already making over $200k in his first year ...wow

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 10:17pm April 21

Ummm.never said a nutritionist was a doctor. My husband is a doctor who holds also a physical therapy degree and a business degree...as well as a nutrition degree. He works in partner with Gold's Gym..You've heard of them right? Yeah. thought so. You're an angry person, Walter. Riod rage, I suppose.

Walter Santoni at 10:21pm April 21

All natural honey, would never touch that stuff.....and I am very laid back guy...but when someone makes a comment that makes no sense because they dont know what I was reffering to when I was talking about alicia, then yes I get mad.... you had no idea I was helping her get ready,...but yet you had to say your piece.... good maybe one day he can work for me...lol

Walter Santoni at 10:25pm April 21

again next time think before you speak........im giving her motivation, making her diet plan, and workout plan...so you check pics to see the progress......from time to time... because pics dont lie....the scale does but pics do not.... so you are the one thats should feel bad for budding her nose in something that is not your business..... so yes I accept your apology LOL

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 10:28pm April 21

And, you? Are NOT a laid back guy. Anyone who jumps down another woman's throat and has no problem insulting her is NOT laid back. You have no respect for women. I was saying something nice to Alicia and you got all heated. One shouldn't value her self worth on her looks. This results in a low self esteem and the rise of the male dominated ego.

Walter Santoni at 10:31pm April 21

no sweetie, I have my own clients, trying to start my own business right now......so no I work for myself...... read your first coment and you tell me who started this ......

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 10:32pm April 21

budding? is that a word? Try using some real grammar. And I apologize for nothing. Your male ego is what is wrong with today's society and how women see themselves. So as far as you "helping" Alicia. She's doing all the work, baby. Not you.

 Sarah Desrosiers-Norval at 10:34pm April 21

I told her she was HOTT to be exact...One does not have to be a specific weight to be considered HOTT in my book. It's the total package. If you are in the best shape ever and have a bad attitude, then you will go nowhere.

 

 

****UPDATE:::Yes...This continues, but I will not bore you into reading more into an angry, rageful person..His inner workings are that of a stunted teenager as we all can bring ourselves back to high school and remember that jock in the middle of the cafeteria yucking it up with his groupies.  Where is that jock now, I ask? Yeah. He reached his peak..Or still has his head in the clouds with this deluded idea that he is still the greatest thing going.

*********I also appreciate all of your emails and letters of support and outrage.  I'm glad I've got my posse behind me. 

***But beware::::He just MAY BE lurking at a gym by you...Waiting to pounce with his bicepts that he so lovingly kisses each night to sleep.  Pick your trainers wisely..Someone who is uplifting to the mind, body AND soul.  And someone who is stable, please.

Telephone Pole Resume

Listen: I know economic times are difficult and all...But are they THAT BAD that people are posting their resumes on telephone poles??

Cause there is a resume on the telephone pole at the end of my driveway. Printed on bright blue paper.  I kid you not.  I actually got out of my car to read the thing and it is a full fledged resume complete with references.

Should I call the poor soul to see if she babysits??

Just Dance

So this is why I shouldn't be driving.

This happened this afternoon after a trip to Target..On the way home.

Before getting onto the highway, I swung thru Wendys to grab a Frosty because the stupid antibiotics are ripping my stomach to shreds and I needed some ice cream..pronto! And, of course, there was a chorus of "FRENCH FRIES!" from the back seat.

Here I am, on the ramp accelerating onto the highway (taking a bite of my Frosty).  A truck cuts me off and won't let me merge.

<HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK> I lay on my horn and shake a spoon at him, although he doesn't look. Stupid delivery trucks.

"Mommy! Music!" I take another bite of my oh-so-refreshing Frosty and turn up the music (which is already thumping with bass...Yes..My children are a bit hood-ratish). The problem is, is that if I refuse to turn the bass thumping music up, or, god forbid, turn the radio station to another more mellow one, I will hear shrieks that will ring in my ears for DAYS. So we bump down the highway with my daughter getting down and dirty in her carseat (ps..She ADORES Lady GaGa..Go figure..And Britney..Hands down, I guess I have to claim her now.  See? It's in the BLOOD!)

So if one looks in my car you would see a one year old droppin' it like it's hot in her carseat, an almost three year old begging for FRENCH FRIES! like a seagull and me...Eating my frosty with a spoon while driving and handing the three year old french fries in the back seat...All while singing Jaime Foxx. 

Then the phone rings! I put down my frosty (stupid phone!) turn down the music and answer the phone.

"MOMMY! MUSIC! MOMMY FRENCH FRIES! JUICE!"

"LISTEN YOU TWO! MOMMY IS ON THE PHONE! WHO WANTS A TIME OUT?"

Silence...(Radio:"Just dance..gonna be okay...Just dance")

Where would I put them for time out?

I have no idea...Do I pull over and make them sit facing the woods? Do I throw the french fries out the window as a punishment? But that would be littering! Who am I kidding. I just started being environmentally conscious and that meant not spitting my gum out onto the pavement.

I finished my phone call with the kids silent, and resumed eating my frosty.

"MOMMY! MUSIC! MOMMY! FRENCH FRIES! JUICE!"

And here we go again.

The Plague

So I really have a ton to write and tell you all about...I really do.

But here's the thing.

My house is filled with THE PLAGUE.

Yup.  THE PLAGUE has ripped through my house with a vengance, leaving in it's wake sinus infections, double ear infections, bronchitis, larengitis, sore throats and a side of pink eye for good measure.

I have Lysoled every possible surface of my house.  My house smells Lysol fresh (I think..I can't smell, so I have to assume with the amount I have sprayed).  I can't imagine ANYTHING is living around here, but apparently we have encountered some sort of MEGA PLAGUE that refuses to be shut down by conventional methods.  I really wish that Lysol would make "bombs" so I could fumigate my entire house.  C'Mon! They make insect bombs! Why not Lysol bombs! Maybe the MEGA PLAGUE would bow down to the Lysol Bomb.  Maybe I should make my own.  I can't breathe already, so it's not like I would be damaging myself further. 

I have a pharmacy of antibiotics on every surface of my kitchen and cough drops in my candy jars.  I think I've changed all of our sheets about 5 timmes in the past week.  That's a whole lot of laundry!  And I can't even move!  It's like running a marathon going up and down the stairs. 

And I can feel my muscles deteriorating as I haven't been to the gym in 8 days.  All that work of kicking my own booty for the past month and now the MEGA PLAGUE is kicking it instead. 

So here I sit with Rainbow Bright coming out from all holes of my face. 

And I have SO MUCH to tell you all! I really do..But now I'm off the Pine Sol the house (Sorry Lysol...Until the bombs come out? You're no competition for the MEGA PLAGUE).

MOPS

I want to give a full shout out to the gorgeous ladies of MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) who invited me to speak last week.

I had a BLAST and felt it was an honor to be with you guys. 

But, can I interest you in a name change?

I propose MAPS (Mothers Against Preschoolers).  This, I feel, sums up my last week full of double ear infections, bloody lips, iced tea-on-motherboard-of-computer-incident, barf in crib, the dog-riding incident (did you know a pug could be ridden??..Now you know.) and the wiping boogers on child-worker incident at the local Y-M-C-A.

Yes, my friends, what a week it has been. 

But I know my MOPS moms understand fully.