Mama In Stilettos

Tag

So I desperately NEED to have a tag sale.  When I first moved into my house, I had everything organized, labeled and knew what everything was in the storage part of the basement.  This was about 3 and a half years ago.  

Since then, "Stuff" ("stuff" being baby contraptions, extra christmas decorations, extra curtains, comforters and decorations...And all kinds of RANDOM crap that has accumulated  and found it's way down there. Like my husband's fascination for keeping empty boxes, cause ya never know when you are going need the blender box, or the Guitar Hero box.) has overtaken my basement and has now made it's way into the "partially finished" side of the cellar.  So every time I walk downstairs I start breathing heavy and my chest tightens up in anxiety because it is  starting to look like an episode of Hoarders.  I, for one, would be a cheerleader of renting a small dumpster and throwing all kinds of crap away.  But no.  I am told that everyone loves a good tag sale, especially when there are baby clothes and toys involved.

So I am suckerd into dragging everything into my garage and labeling the everloving life out of things.  Because I JUST HAVE THE KIND OF TIME.  So here I am carting books, blankets and toys in my only FREE TIME of the day.  But I'm not bitter.

Guess I am about to make a boatload of money (heh heh).  

Egg-Z-R-oneous

Who ever thought to make a religious holiday into ANOTHER commercial monstrosity is simply genius.  How would I ever know that Easter is coming if I didn't see the Cadbury Eggs showing up in CVS?  Or know that it's time to pull out the white patent leather stilettos for that special Sunday? 

But in all seriousness.  This egg thing?  Needs to be stopped.  Or at least capped.  Because it is out of control.  Eggs and candy everywhere.  Chocolate barking up my legs and jelly beans breathing down my neck.  Not to mention those Reeses Peanut Butter Eggs magically appearing inside my mouth.  How did they get there??? I have NO idea.  

You know what the REALLY bad thing was this year? I raided the kids baskets even BEFORE Easter. Yep.  I was craving myself some chocolate a couple of days before Easter and *ZING* "Oh! There are Cadbury Eggs in the kids' baskets!"  So I went downstairs where I was hiding them and stole an egg.  Only then I realized the baskets were uneven.  I stole from one basket.  So now one basket had one more Cadbury Egg than the other. So <POP> I stole another quickly and shoved it in my mouth. There. All is right with the world.

So now here I sit.  Feeling FAT. BLOATED and all together DISGUSTED with myself after this week of binge candy eating.

Good thing I start my new P90X (Extreme Home Fitness) and new diet tomorrow.  

I think there will be lots of things to talk about.  Especially when I have to complete the DVD named "Plyometrics".  The description of this DVD says that I will spend most of the time in the air..JUMPING.  And then it says this about the technique of jumping, "this technique can best be achieved by leaping off the toes and landing softly and quietly on the balls of the feet.  Think Catwoman/Spiderman, not Frankenstein." OH MY.  Do they know that my middle name is not GRACE?  I am positive I am going to look like a circus freak. 

Stay Tuned.

My Excuses

So I am sure that everyone has waited with baited breath as to why I haven't posted as much this past summer.  The answer is easy.  I HAVE BEEN A CRAZY PERSON.  In every sense of the word.  Should I have blogged this?  Oh yes.  But the pull away from my beautiful pink Mac has been so strong that even I couldn't drag myself away from my responsibilities (I know..Hard to believe.)   

Thus far, I have had to deal with a vacation (who DOESN'T need a vacay? That would be me. WHY??  Who takes a vacay to Disney World in the raging heat of summer..That would be ME.  Who would think she was walking on the surface of the SUN and wanted to beat Mickey out of heat frustration and exhaustion?  Oh, again, that would be ME.  I think I sweat enough to fill a small baby pool and turn it into one of those posh "salt water pools".  Oh..Believe ME.  If I had one of THOSE posh pools, that would most definitely be in my front yard, white trash or not).  I had to deal with a broken arm from the four year old who decided that he HAD to have the cast the color of a traffic cone.  I swear he could have gotten a job for the local DPW.  Working papers? BAH.  There have also been two trips to the ER due to toy related accidents in my hallways which is about a mile long and screams for preschools to race toys down it; only to have the toy slip out of there grip and face plant on the hard wood.  This ending up with the two year old and a dead nerve in her front tooth.  And enough blood in my house for a full length horror movie. 

We also visited my brother and his bomb diggity wife down in Philly for some much needed down time.  The only problem?  I had to drive myself.  By the end of the drive home I was either going to go crazy with a semiautomatic pistol or needed a drug induced nap.  You pick which one was a better fit considering the children.

And THEN there were the baby bird incidents..YES.  The baby birds.  Somewhere and somehow, baby birds were showing up in my front yard like it was the place to be.  Hopping around and chirping like they were getting their groove on at the local club.  The only problem?  They could NOT fly.  What was I supposed to do?? I am an animal lover but refused to take them in.  Until it started to thunder and lightening.  Then all bets were off.  I had to rescue then from the scary storm and the death defying rain.  I think you can guess the outcome of Tiny Tim #1 AND #2.  Even though I neglected my own CHILDREN to tend to these birds with eye droppers full of water and tried every darn thing for food.  It was traumatic and awful.  NO MORE BABY BIRDS.  You are on your own, peeps.  One can only deal with so much trauma.  And I certainly don't need anymore PTSD in my life.

And now for the finale...I am ZUMBA LICENSED!!! Did I shake it in front of my make-shift "dance studio (composed of 3 mirrors in my basement) for hours on end? YES.  But am I ready to get down with my first class? NOOOOO.  More practicing...But here we GO!  I will definitely post my schedule of classes here first thing.  COME OF YOU CAN!!! (But don't wear stilettos, ok?  I KNOW the pull is SO strong.  But there are some HOT kicks out there.  Go find them and get ready to shake it with me.)

Shake it like a salt shaker!

Oops!

Wooden Spoon vs. Blender

Little do you know how genius I am.  Do you even KNOW how easy it was to get tomato paste out of the can with this new contraption?? Yup.  And I thought I was just being an idiot.  That and avoiding the jaw shivering clanging of metal in my blender (not that I have EVER done that before).  Maybe I shouldn't put anything but food in my blender?  And then mix when the blades are not chopping ferociously?  

Loyalty

So I have a bone to pick.

I had this really tight group of friends in high school.  We did everything together.  I swear.  I lived for weekends and for the midweek events that would bring us all together.  School was such a minor part of my social life.  My boyfriend went to a different high school, my best friend went to a different high school and my two other guy friends were older than I was and they lived in different towns too.  

We were a force to be reckoned with.  We were definitely the fab five, no doubt about it.  We spent every weekend together and laughed our heads off constantly.  Wasn't that what best friends did?  We went through drive thru's backwards in our cars, went four wheeling in a crappy jeep with no seat belts, jumped from cliffs into murky water filled with disgusting fish, spent summer nights at the pool with take out pizza and harassed each other at our individual jobs.  I absolutely loved being with my friends.  Part of me was defined by my friendships.  And I was proud of it.  Not many people can say that they had such a tight knit "gang".  

Well, life is life and things do change.  I was the first to get married, but I was still very close to my friends, especially my best friend.  We were still inseparable.  She was my maid of honor and my confident.  

Slowly but surely our group dissipated, marriage being the biggest deal breaker.  My two closest guy friends got married and quietly disappeared into their roles as husbands.  One of them completely disappeared and the other I still talked to and was friends with his wife.  I actually "set them up", as she was my friend in college.  

So there you have it.  I was still very close to my best friend and one of my guy friends and his wife, but my other guy friend and ex, not so much.  They kinda fell off the face of the earth for me.  I was sad that our group changed because I always had this fantasy that we would be friends forever.  We would have families and we would grow together and change together as our lives matured.  But that didn't happen.

I had a "falling out" of sorts from the guy friend that I still talked to.  I made a few mistakes because I was upset and I ended up hurting him and his wife.  Although I apologized twice and was extremely sincere, they simply chose not to forgive.  I can't imagine how exhausting it is to carry such a grudge, but that's just not what I do.  I don't get it.  That's not how I live my life.  I forgive and move on.  Do I forget the hurt? No, of course not.  That just wouldn't be human.  But I choose to move past it and start fresh.  Get past the initial awkwardness and begin again.  Isn't that what life is about anyways? Growth and mistakes?  But again, I am loyal to my friendships.  I am willing to do anything for my friends.  It's just who I am as a person.  

So now it's current.  I am still fiercely close and devoted to my best friend, and recently bumped into my ex.  Which was good because he recently joined the Army.  So I guess you never know when someone joins the military.  So I was glad for the chance to see him before he was shipped off somewhere and completely out of my orbit forever.

Last night I received a text message from my "best friend" saying "Don't be too shocked by the pictures on Facebook."  I was confused, of course.  And it was late and I had a loooooong day, a headache and a broken toe (omg. AND husband kicked it accidentally while we were out.  I saw STARS and almost passed out from the pain.  Right there in JCPenny furniture department.  Then? Almost KILLED him...Anyhow....).  I grabbed my computer and hopped into bed.

And I couldn't believe my eyes.

Surely me eyes were lying to me.

They had a "reunion".  And I wasn't even invited.  I didn't even know it was or did happen.  And there, right there, were pictures posted.

Are you kidding me?

There they were: my "best friend", two guy friends and my ex.  All together.  At the same place.  For the first time since I don't even know when.  Maybe since someone got married like 10 years ago?? 

And the thing is?  Is that my "best friend" and I talked about a "reunion" ALL THE TIME.  

And it happened.  And I wasn't there.

How hurtful is that?

And the excuse?  That I may have a problem with one of the guy friends because of that "issue" that was SO long ago is was before Obama was even President.  

Seriously? Get over it.  For the sake of a "reunion"? Get over it.  If you are a genuine friend?  You would accept the apology and MOVE ON.  

And here's the kicker.  My "best friend" was there.  And the thing is? Is that I would NEVER attend something like that without her.  NEVER.  Possibly I am loyal to a fault.  Why did she go without me?  I will never know.  Did she orchestrate the entire thing behind my back? Omg. My heart hurts.  

I spent the night crying last night.  

And crying this morning.

To see pictures of your best friends of ALL TIME together without you is so incredibly heart breaking I can't even explain.  How can I not be hurt?  

So I thought maybe I was overreacting.  Turns out I'm not.  My mom hurts for me and my husband?  Just plain mad because of how upset I am and how people can do this to me.  And my other bestie?  Totally gets it.  So I know I'm not crazy or insane (because sometimes? I totally am.).

I am allowing myself to be hurt right now.  And a little (or a lot) angry.  But then I need to forgive and move on with my true friends.  

As my mom says: "Get better, not bitter."

This is what I choose.

Rage and Destruction

This is an exact account of actual events that took place last night.

1. went to bed with a raging migraine

2.  took enough migraine medication to medicate a small elephant

3. woke up an hour later because the migraine was WORSE

4.  2 year old wakes up

5.  try to soothe 2 year old back to bed

6.  2 year old screams at the top of her lungs

7.  2 year old has diarrhea and bum is on fire

8. walk into bedroom and walk straight INTO chest at the end of my bed

9. break left baby toe

10.  2 year old comes into bed

11.  struggle with ice pack over foot

12.  bandage ice to foot

13. realize that i have to pee AFTER the ice is on the foot

14. have to walk to the bathroom with ice balancing on outside of left foot

15.  can't sleep because of extreme PAIN in HEAD and now FOOT

16.  5am------>sleep

17.  730am: 4 year old wakes up with a screaming fever.

What a great day this is going to be! 

I swear.....Could I make this stuff up?!?!?!?

Gastly

Does anyone experience this??

I walk across my kitchen floor and at a certain spot, my sock sticks to the floor.  Something sticky is there....Probably juice, coffee, or various food spewed out of the mouths of toddlers.  Anyhoo, I DESPISE dirty floors.  So I whip out the Pine Sol and paper towels to attack the stickiness and...I CAN'T FIND IT! 

I swear! I keep looking around trying to reenact the "sock-sticking-to-floor" ...Walking around square inch by square inch trying to make my sock stick to the mess once again so I can MAKE IT DISAPPEAR.  Yet?  It is now a ghost.  

But the thing that happens is that at various times throughout the day?  The exact same scenario plays out.  Me: Sticking to the floor, trying to memorize the stickiness area, running to grab the Pine Sol and the grimy spot DISAPPEARING! 

Oh my god how I want to just grab a bucket of hot water, soap, a sponge and scrub my entire floor because of this stupid phantom nastiness.

About 6 hours later and after the scenario plays out about 5 or 6 times there is enough dirt now present on the phantom stickiness that I can attack it.

Now...Who can I yell at?  Who MADE MY FLOOR DIRTY?!!

Loogies

Really? What IS it with guys and their refusal to see a doctor.  Even when they are blatantly sick.  And when I say sick, I mean SICK.  Like hacking up a lung sick.  Like "my lungs are now BLACK" sick.  

This is my husband.  And the ironic thing?  Is that my husband is a health care PROFESSIONAL.  He, in the words of my four year old, "makes people better".  Granted, he's not a primary care doctor, but he IS a medical encyclopedia.  And, yes.  Some people DO use him as their primary care doctor, so that being said, he KNOWS.  He really KNOWS.

So for two weeks he has been hacking and hacking. ALL OVER THE HOUSE.  A couple times to the point where I have screamed at him to go to the doctor before storming off out of bed with my blankets at midnight because there was NO WAY I could sleep through the goose barks.  And the other thing?  Is that he thinks that when he coughs?  He should then proceed to "hock up a loogie"  and spit it in the closest available sink. This could be the main bathroom, the "guest bathroom" or the KITCHEN sink.  I'm sorry, but I think that this is the grossest and most unsanitary thing EVER.  Ok, if you MUST spit?  Spit in a TISSUE and THROW IT AWAY.  I may even cut you some slack and tolerate spitting in the toilet, but only if you can guarantee that it be flushed immediately because I definitely DO NOT need to see it or I may barf.  And the thing is, is that he will run the water after and "wash it down the sink".  Sorry to say that IT DOESN'T ALWAYS GO DOWN, as he insists that it does on the hundreds of occasions I have "spoken" to him about this.  So I have had to scrub and disinfect throat induced snot from both of my bathrooms and my kitchen sink, all while I gag, on a daily basis for the last TWO WEEKS.  I am so done with it.

But the question is WHY he does this.  What is his thinking behind this obscene behavior.  You really want to know?  Remember he is a HEALTH CARE PROFESSIONAL.  His words: "I am coughing up the sickness.  I feel like I can get the germs up."  Whhhhaaaaaaat?  Now.  I may now have a medical degree or license but I definitely DO know that you can't get rid of sickness by coughing it out of your body, otherwise I would never have to take medication ever.  Just cough it up and all is okay.  No worries!  Simply cough as though your life depends on it,  get some big 'ol snot in your throat and upchuck it into your kitchen sink.  HEALED! 

So last night our youngest, Cam Bam, was up until midnight coughing and coughing....Again more yelling: "GO TO THE DOCTOR.  YOU HAVE BEEN COUGHING ALL OVER THIS HOUSE FOR TWO WEEKS.  NOW THE ASTHMATIC CHILD IS SICK WITH YOUR BLACK LUNG SICKNESS!"  Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> Breathing treatment..... Chris: <cough cough> <cough cough>

5am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> repeat for 10 minutes.  breathing treatment....

<cough cough> sporadically for next 45 minutes

6am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> STEROID breathing treatment.. Chris: <cough cough HOCK HOCK....spit> <cough cough>

6:30am

Cam Bam: <cough cough> <cough cough> <cough cough GAG> <GAG> "SARAH, SHE JUST THREW UP PHLEM!"  breathing treatment.... Chris: <cough cough HOCK HOCK....spit> <cough cough>

Sarah: "CHRIS GO TO THE FREAKING DOCTOR OR DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME."

So I have had no more than 4-5 hours of sleep, and I feel like I am starting to want to cough.

Excuse me while I go and "hock up SEVERAL loogies (in tissues)" to heal myself while giving millions of breathing treatments today.

Trashy Neighbor

So yesterday I decided that I am one of those "trashy neighbors" that everyone despises.

Picture this:  I was screaming at my children who were throwing rocks into the road (didn't matter that a few cars drove buy and slowed down to give them the 'stink eye'), yelling for my dog who decided to have the run of the neighborhood, all from my lounge chair which was in my front yard.  Oh. And did I mention I was on the phone while all this was happening?  And in short shorts and a tank top (hey. A girl has to catch some rays.  I was starting to resemble a close relative of the Cullen family.)?  AND did I mention that there were toys strewn ALL over my yard like I was holding a tag sale just for kid's toys?  No?  Well, that's how it went down yesterday.  All I needed was a cigarette hanging from my mouth to complete the package. 

My neighbors are going to LOVE me this summer.

Bake Off!

So now everyone thinks that I can't cook.  I guess I carry that stigma ever since I set the kitchen on fire a while back. 

Well....I'm baaaaack.  I have to be because of this friggin' celiac sentence that I have been given.  What the heck?  Now I can't pull into Boston Market, order a chicken and side and say I cooked a home meal! Well, I actually could, but then I would spend the next several days in severe agony that I wouldn't wish upon my dog-catcher-calling neighbor ..Well, maybe he could handle that.  Wait a minute.  He deserves a little agony. Anyhoo,  I now have to cook in oder to maintain life inside my body.  Because I have now learned that we all need food to survive.  I tried eating rice noodles for several weeks...Then graduated to chicken and brown rice.  What became of this? SEVERE DEPRESSION where I wanted to shove cake in my mouth (but couldn't) and then wanted to inflict pain upon those who told me "Oh! Don't worry! This is the BEST time to be diagnosed with this! Like, there are SO many gluten free things right now!"  Yeah.  Did ya ever think about drive thru?  Did ya ever think about burgers and fries?  Did ya ever think about pizza? (although? just recently, I HAVE found the alma mater)..But still...Just picking up the phone and ordering something "take out".  Never gonna happen in my world except for like 1 restaurant 20 minutes away, thanks.

Anyways, so I have NO CHOICE but to cook dinners, treats, cakes and breads for myself.  Or risk hurting someone waiting in the drive thru line of the closest Wendys because of my bitterness.  Lucky for me my brother and sis-in-law bought me the ultimate cookbook  for non-cookers, such as myself.  Don't get me wrong, I used to enjoy cooking, but it took so darn LOOOONG.  I'm looking for instant gratification here...Not waiting 1.5 hours for a casserole to cook after it took me 45 minutes to put it together. All I got was a backache and a bad attitude from all that preparation and how it took 10 minutes for everyone to gorge themselves.  

So I just went waaay of subject.  Like if the subject was Massachusetts?  I'm in California..Well, maybe not that far. North Dakota or something.

So I made these FABULOUS cupcakes for my son's preschool Valentine's Day celebration:

Behold the artistry

 

Yes.  They were taken with my phone, so not so great pics...Hey, I was in the car!

I am pretty darn proud of these little delectable treats.  And, no, they are NOT gluten free.  Wanna know why?    Because I made a DELICIOUS chocolate cake (gluten free) with velvet frosting this past weekend that was probably the equivalent of eating a stick of butter when you ate a piece. And guess what?!?! There were LEFTOVERS.  Guess who was up in the middle of the night stuffing her face?  

For my other reason, my dad's birthday is this next weekend and I am making him his birthday cake (gluten free), so I am going to have to eat some (such a cross to bear, I know).  So my thought process behind the cupcakes and the remaining batter that I made into a cake?  Simple: I CAN'T EAT IT.  No getting up in the middle of the night to partake in soft billowy cakeness and buttery cream cheese frosting.  I'm CUT OFF.  I cut myself OFF. 

I'm genius.  

Only, I have to stare as my family eats the cake one piece at a time.  OH THE PAIN!