Mama In Stilettos

Partnership

So, Earlier this week, I announced that I would be incorporating some "new things" into my blog. Maybe some deeper things, maybe some things that spark discussion.

 This past fall, I had the opportunity to appear on the nationally syndicated talk show "The Morning Show with Mike and Juliet". It was a complete blast and an incredible opportunity that I will always remember. Why am I posting this now??

 As you all know, I have been going to the gym almost everyday my body allows and I have been meeting all kinds of mothers. Mothers who work full time, single mothers, mothers who work part time and mothers who stay at home. What bonds us? Is our children and our tie to our households. With my appearance on The Morning Show, I (tried to) debate an author who had the belief that a woman's role in the household was to satisy her husband. And I had SO MUCH to say about THAT..Yes?

 My belief is that a household is a shared responsibility..A give and take, if you will. It is about being able to be a strong woman on your own, and therefore, being a strong partner. A relationship is all about communication and respect. Being able to voice what you are feeling in a relationship is key to it being successful. If one feels as though there is no honesty? There can be no deep relationship. And my role as a wife? Is NOT to be used by my husband, but to be a friend and an equal partner. If I do the laundry do I expect my husband to take out the trash? Yep. If I bathe one kid do I expect that he bathe the other? Yep. And you know what? This gives my children the message that we are a team and that BOTH parents are in this relationship and can take part in the household. It gives my children the idea that a relationship is equal and loving. Loving?? Yes. Because when I have had a terrible day and have a headache? I can count on my husband to pull more onto his plate, even if he is exhausted too. Because he cares and he loves his family.

 And for you single mothers out there? I have a genuine love for you. I have been through a taste of what you go through, and, I have the utmost respect for you. Back not too long ago, my husband was leaving at 5am to go to school and returning at 8pm. I had a newborn and a 17 month old. Was is difficult?? Oh my gosh-one of the hardest times of my life.

 And for you working mothers who pack up the kids each and every day to go to work...I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL. I did it for a time and it was SO DIFFICULT. A struggle to get from one day to the next with all of the packing everything and getting the laundry done for everyone, and making sure we had groceries..It was purely exhausting, even with the help of a husband!!!!! And the weekends were a fury of errands and trying to get back on a schedule that didn't exist. 

So, I leave you with what happened on the show...Feel free to comment about ANYTHING and ask any questions!

Marshmallow Madness

So most people sleep to "get away" from things, quiet themselves and drift happily into dreamland.

Yeah. Me? Not so much.

I had to basically SHAKE myself awake last night. 

I had an extremely frightening dream that I was coated in marshmallow and the cartoon cat "Sylvester" was chasing me to LICK me.  Can you imagine trying to run with your body coated in a layer of marshmallow?? It is NOT FUN.  My legs were sticking together, my arms would not pump beside my body, I was completely out of balance and I was being chased by a "puddy cat" who wanted to LICK me..I repeat..LICK me.  He wanted the marshmallow.  Who ever heard of a cat who fiended after MARSHMALLOW?  Definitely not me! I have a cat and all she is interested in is a warm spot on my bed, her food dish and her litter box, where, I swear, she takes pride in building sandcastles.  Or has a contest with herself to see just how much litter she can shoot out of her box, or how far she can throw the little clay pebbles across the room.  I can read her mind: "Oh! YES! I just got a pebble into the MIDDLE of the HALLWAY! Just TRY to walk past barefoot! HA! You will not pass unscathed!  The pebble will make a home for itself in between your toes!"

And you know what else??

It was so LOUD in the dream.

Like SCREAMING loud..It sounded like, I imagine, a tornado would sound.  All sirens blowing and freight trains chugging at high speed in my head.  

When I SHOOK myself awake..It was QUIETER..

I was completely stunned, first by the dream, and then by the sounds.  

And then? Completely repulsed by any thoughts of marshmallow.  This Easter?  I am totally skipping on the Peeps thank you very much.

Tweaked Out

Ok...I'm a little freaked out right now..

I'm sitting here all innocent and drinking my LAST Diet Snapple Iced Tea (this is a crisis situation...NEED to get to Costcos ASAP!).  Anyhow, I am checking my email after getting home from the gym...Which OH MY GOD.  How step class can be so difficult I have no idea.  Example:  "Right lunges around the world!  Step kick, step back...3 knees, mambo back, shuffle around your base, right basic into traveling hamstrings and then boomerang!" Yeah..And you WONDER why not only are my calves about to rip out of my legs, but my brain is about to explode!  

So, here I am nursing my last iced tea when I notice a new email from Twitter announcing to me that "Fat Bastard" is now following me on Twitter...Whhhhhhaaaaaaat?  Whhhhhoooooo?

So I "click".

I so wish I didn't "click".

After the "click", I find myself staring at this impossibly sumo sized man (expplains he is 350lbs) who claimes "Follow me as I follow the Bro Carb Diet. (huh? I am intrigued) -eating steak, wings, pizza and beer as I lose weight."

Well HOT DARN! 

Here I thought these were the things that were off limits to me as I kill myself at the gym.  Boy, guess I have been doing all the wrong things!  Geez!  Guess I should be munching on some pepperoni right now and guzzling some Sam Adams.  

Please hold while I order the biggest pizza for lunch, eh? Why not some wings on the side?..I NEED to get healthy and lose a bit of flab I have going on.  And for dinner, bring on the steak..Gosh, this diet is going to be impossibly hard, maybe I should follow "Fat Bastard" for some motivation and support..No?

Open Eye Insert Fork

So..I have been thinking...Maybe I should throw in some more of "myself" into my blogging.  Yes, we all think it's freaking hilarious to hear about my experiences from day to day life (especially when I buy things from gay door-to-door salesmen) and hear about the foolishness that I get involved in.  But maybe I should be letting more people "into" my life.  I mean, that's what "blogging" is all about, right? Letting people into your world.  Giving them a glimpse of what your life is like and what your mind is thinking.  I feel as though I've kept the blogging to a surface level, meaning, I've told everyone about what actually goes on in my life and the situations and experiences that I have, but I really don't think I've let anyone really into my head or brought anyone to the level that may be more than superficial.  So I'm thinking I'll be switching things up now and then and writing posts that may be more on a "feeling level".  I think it may be more therapeutic for me and it's my blog, so..that's that.  But, for sure there's one thing: I will NEVER talk about anything political because I HATE POLITICS and anything to do with that crazy agenda.  I guess that more than not you can guess how someone stands by the way they write and how they feel, but let's leave it at that.  

So, on another level, we brought the kids to the "Y" today for a family swim and it was ridiculous how mortified I was.  I love the pool and all, but they have chairs all around the pool and there were people all sitting in those chairs just STARING into the water and looking at what's going on.  And, yes, I do have a low self-esteem when it comes to my body...What woman doesn't?  Especially when you KNOW you have not been working out, or taking care of your body, you FEEL self conscious through every pore of your body...Well, most women do, in my experience.  And in my professional experience, this is true.  Woman are certainly less gracious when it comes to looking at themselves in the mirror.  And, um, the bathing suit? Is of the devil.  It is a torture device for those over the age of, probably 25 or for those of us with the battle scars of children.  

Do I think I'm fat? No. I don't.  Do I think I'm out of shape and hear me thighs screaming at me and my rear doing a dance every step I take? YES. So there you go. One's own eyes are certainly unforgiving and walking into that pool with my rear facing all those chairs, I wanted to DIE.  On one hand, it is great motivation to be healthy and work hard and eat right.  On the other hand, it makes me so incredibly MAD that I feel this way.  Or that any woman should feel this way.  And acceptance is not coming soon as I see the new Armani ad with Victoria Beckham looking EXTREMELY hungry and despretely in need of nourishment, yet looking so incredibly elegant and defined that it is intriguing.  

So a goal for myself would be to be introspective and to be more positive about my image.  I need to look in the mirror and see the GOOD and not focus on the bad.  And THAT, my friends, is a challenge.  And I pass the challenge on to you, today.  And, for the love of god, DO NOT look at the Victoria Beckham ad unless you're prepared to want to stick a fork in your eye. 

Y-M-C-A

I was sick this past weekend, to the point where I simply could not get out of bed on Saturday.  So guess who was in charge of the kids? And no, it wasn't the dog.  It was Chris.  

2pm: Chris comes into the bedroom where I am asleep and delirious with fever. "I don't know what to do with them.  They are like crazed monkeys. INSANE. Listen to them!! They aren't even listening to me! I have NO IDEA WHAT TO DO!"  Through my achiness I grin. "You know what? I'm glad. GLAD you got to see first hand what I have been telling you for MONTHS.  They need SOMETHING to DO."

So we decided as a family (FINALLY!) that it would probably be a good idea to join the local YMCA.  It a brand spankin' new facility and it's beautiful and when I walked through the doors I wanted to sing.  You know why?? 

FREE CHILD CARE.

90 minutes max.

90 minutes?? Without my kids?? Per day? Where do I sign up?

I was more than pumped and think I lost 10 pounds just by jumping for joy and doing a celebratory jig around the facility.

I scrutinized the class schedule (I am a class person..I NEED someone to motivate me) and decided that I would kickbox a couple of times a week.  

I showed up on Monday after barely having slept (what if the kids act up? What if I can't leave them and they throw fits? What if they throw things?..Basically drove myself CRAZY into the wee hours of the morning).  I was fairly confident..I had kickboxed before and I thought I was good at it.

Oh boy. Was I wrong.

These women? Are MACHINES. They look like those people on tv.  Doing everything perfectly and looking great doing it.  

And there I was in the back (by the fan, thank you) with a beet red, swollen face.

Instructor: "On an exersion level between 1 and 10..You should be at a 10."

MamaInStilettos: "Should I be close to DEATH?"

And yes, I am determined to look as good as these stepford kickboxing women. I WILL not have the instructor asking me if I am ok and then giving me LOW IMPACT moves (yes, it is humiliating). NOPE. I will KICKBOX. 

Chemical Fires

Why do I always seem to be on the receiving end of bad customer service??

For example, I needed to call the doctor this week to push up an appointment due to some “complications”.

Ring...Ring….

“Hello..Dr..So-and-So’s office..”

“Yes, um, Hi.  This is Mamainstilettos and I need to change an appointment I have with the doctor?? I have one next month?  But I need to see him sooner…”

You see, this is the problem.  I have had a “skin issue” now for a few months.  I saw the good doctor a couple of months ago where he gave me some face wash to use in the mornings and some cream to use at night.  Seems innocent enough..Right?

Oh how WRONG.  I wash my face at night with my face wash and apply the prescription face cream.  2 minutes later I look in the mirror to see my skin turn an unusual shade of pink and my skin looks so foreignly matte.  Almost like wax. Yeah.  2 minutes later I look in the mirror and (OH MY GOD) my face is BURNING FURY RED.  And it looks as though it is pulsating.  And OH THE PAIN.  I barely can open my mouth as I run to the refridgerator to fill a glass of ice to hold it up to my (OH MY GOD) FIRE FACE.  And then my face swells.  I call it the nightly “chemical fire”.  I look forward to lighting my face up each and every night in the name of clear skin.

So then I wash my face in the morning with the “special wash” that takes away about 5 layers of skin with it.  Just rolls right off my face like Christmas wrapping paper coming off the roll on Christmas Eve.  It’s lovely.   I am fully exfoliated each day to the point where I emerge from the shower full-on GLOWING piglet pink.  I cannot touch my skin for approximately 10-15 minutes after a shower for fear that I may take off more skin and end up like Jeff Dunham’s character "Achmed".   Sometimes I look quickly around my bathroom and utter “I KILL you..” Just to practice.  

So BACK to the phone call:

“How long have you been doing you skin care regimine?”

“8 weeks.”

“8 WEEKS?  It takes a good 6 months before you see any results and your skin is going to get A LOT worse before it going to get ANY better,”  She starts saying SO rudely.

I get a bit amped, “So you’re telling me that there should be CHEMICAL FIRES on my FACE every night.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re telling me that my face should be so ON FIRE that I feel like I need to submerge it in the snow outside for relief, but instead I hold up a glass of ice to it every night??”  I ask.

“Ok. So that’s not so normal.  Let’s see if we can get you in to see the doctor sooner.”

“That’s all I’m asking,”  I say.

Doing It Well

So, today we are SNOWED IN.  Yes, we ALL LOVE New England in MARCH.  Good 'ol foot of snow on my doorstep, mocking me and sucking the motivation out of my bones.  I can literally feel the steely sky reaching down and draining all hope of spring from my body.  My mind is telling me to curl up in the fetal position with my favorite blanket, some comfort food and the remote..Oh waaaaaaait.  That's EVERY day! 

Eventually one day mulls into the other and one snow storm generates another and we get caught up in the typical New England seasonal affectiveness.  

Until you look out your front window and see this:

Your neighbor snow blowing the driveway in HEELS and a SKIRT.

Now...Everyone knows my obsession with all things involving heels, stilettos, wedges, platforms...And the list continues...But this?  This freaked me out a little.

There she was moving that snow blower up and down her driveway (which has a little grade to it) all while slipping and sliding in 4 inch HEELS.  And the wind was whipping her coat around her body to reveal a winter white (god, I hope it was winter white WOOL, and not linen, or this? Is a sad, sad story)

The snow was blowing back into her face and hair giving her dark hair a spray of white and her face an uncomfortable shade of red.  But there she was, working that snow blower like I've never seen anyone work a snow blower before.  She looked like she was trying to win some sort of race.  Slipping up the driveway and sliding back down all while manuevering this red piece of machinery in front of her like she OWNED it.  Like she was trying to TAME it.  Maybe she was embarassed to be out there in the first place and wanted the pain of embarassment over as quickly as possible.....Or maybe she was extremely pissed to be out there in March while she has 2 (yes, 2) teenage SONS (she's divorced) who should have been pulling their weight by clearing the driveway.  Especially since one of them has a BRAND NEW CAR (how he got this SPORTS car? I don't even want to GO there...All I can say? Is that there are rumors...)And she was driven by pure madness.  I don't know.  All I can tell you is that she cleared that driveway in a quarter of the time it took my husband to clear ours.  And (sorry hon) she looked darn good doing it.  Freaky...But she pulled it off.

I'd like to see some of those men out there harrow the weather and clear the driveway with a snow blower in HEELS and a SKIRT.

HOLLA!