body hair, manscaping and just plain weirdness

I have never plucked an eyebrow in my life.  I just have never been that hairy of a person I guess.  I pretty much don't have to shave my legs more than twice a month. I guess that makes me pretty lucky.

One of my nieces was traumatized when a kid told her she had a mustache, so she's been plucking and waxing forever.  And she's only 15.  She is also model-like gorgeous, but that's beside the point.

I remember actually, when that particular niece was little and had sort of a hairy little monkey back and forehead and we all wondered if she might need to pluck/wax a little sooner in life.

I'm glad that I'm not so hairy, because besides being traumatizing (socially I guess? but also regarding the pain factor of waxing/plucking) it seems like it's really expensive and annoying as far as upkeep is concerned!

If you are a waxer, holy crap!  Those waxing procedures sure seem like they cost a ton of money.  And sheesh.  I'm pretty positive that it would be equally as traumatizing to have someone put wax on my personal private body parts.  I barely want myself glancing at my personal private body parts, you know?!

Do you know that guys wax too?  You know, like manscaping?  In the crotchal region?  I am sorry and no offense if you are into that, but that horrifies me.  I just cannot see how that look would be appealing to an adult female.  Like, a hairless guy.  Don't get me wrong, there is a fine line between sweater vest hairy and Alopecia hairless, but really?  Going all Kojak down there is kind of gross to me.

I can't believe I am delving into body hair and manscaping here, but I actually find it a little disturbing.  There is nothing wrong with a little maintenance, like you know, a teeny tiny trim-up, but a full on, balls out (excuse my language.  no, actually, go with it, it is rather fitting) hair cut?  Like baldish?  Ugh.  Why?

A while back a few of us were discussing this trend of manscaping, and my cousin mentioned that her brother was very pro-manscaping, and he actually blow dries his "area" with a hair dryer.  I was like, what??  And more importantly, why would he share that info with you??  Turns out his wife actually shared that info with her because he once burned his, hm, let's say really sensitive body parts with the hairdryer, and she thought it was a really funny story. 

Who does that??!

Am I missing something?

really sucked in

So last year my son came home from school talktalktalking my ear off about a book he had to read for a book report.  I was sooo interested guys. No really, I was interested because my boy is not a big reader and he seemed kind of into this book.  So I actually listened attentively.

So whatever, he told me the whole plot (In lengthy detail.  I wonder where he gets his windiness from?)  and I thought, sounds like a book he would like, good YA book, you know?

Then.  Then, you guys.  I ended up reading the book recently and omg.  My life was at a stand still for like four days.  In a row.  Not that it takes me four days to read a book, because hello?  I am a book reading wizard.  A professional.  No, four days because I had to run my ass right up to Target and buy the second and third books.  Because there was no way I was waiting for my turn at the damn library.

I bet you are wondering right now what Young Adult books made me lose four days of my life.  And you might also be wondering if I am immature because I appreciate a good Young Adult book.  You may be on to something there. 

You know, I don't do book reviews here, but I might have to make a freaking exception because I loved these books.

OK, fine.  Relax.  I'm ready to share now.  The book was the Hunger Games*, by Suzanne Collins.  Followed by Catching Fire and Mockingjay.  I was really really sucked in and I couldn't put any of them down.  I recognize that these books have been out there for a bit.  I mean, all three of the books in the series were readily available, like, right there on the shelf ready for me.  I think my sister or niece mentioned it during our vacation and said that the movie was coming out in 2012, so I put it on my Books to read list.  It was right under Push by Sapphire (gah, terrible sad horrible thought provoking book that the movie Precious was based on), and since I finished that and was in book reading mode, it was next in line and I was needing something to sink my teeth into.

I like to go in order.  Besides, I can't stand seeing the movie before reading the book.  It throws me off.

So anyway, I am not exactly reviewing this book (series), because I am not that great at reviewing.  I like to consider myself a pretty literate person, but I can't seem to get past the accolades.  Mainly I just say things like, It was great!  or, I loved it!  or, OMFG so awesome!  Probably not exactly like the kind of reviews you check out in the book review section of People magazine or something.  And in all honesty, once you wrap up this post you will have absolutely nothing to base your possible decision to read this book series on.  Except, if I am going to put myself out there and say I really loved something, then seriously you might want to just peek at it.  Read a chapter or two.  Because, omfg, so awesome!

*If you want to really read like, normal reviews of the book, you can click on the link.

Fine.  Here is a little clip from one of the reviews on Amazon if you don't feel like clicking the link:
"Wow. I was barely able to put this book down for a second after the first few pages got me completely hooked. Suzanne Collins narrative here has an immediacy to it that, when combined with the very dramatic life-or-death plot, is incredibly compelling. It's entertaining, and incredibly disturbing all at once. If this was merely a good read, I would have given it 4 stars, but they say great art leaves you changed after you experience it... and this book definitely did that. Suzanne Collins has, with one amazing work, propelled herself onto my top shelf.

Parents, caveat emptor! The storyline is brutal. Even though the writing is geared for young adults, the main characters are teenagers, there's very little physical romance, and the actual violence would probably count as PG-13 nowadays... it's probably one of the most terrifying books I've read in a very long time! Right up there with George R.R. Martin, if not more so. Remember what we learned from Jaws: you don't actually need to SEE the shark in order for it to be terrifying. Sometimes not seeing the shark is even worse.

The story is basically about a teenager who is forced to compete in a 24-man-enter-1-man-leaves event. I don't want to spoil it by saying any more, but if you liked The Running Man, you'll definitely like this. And if you're young enough that you don't remember The Running Man, nor did you get the Thunderdome reference, then I'm just way too old. But take an old fogey's advice and read this book. "

this is it

Sometimes I sit here and think to myself, dude, WTF are you doing?

I mean, one life.  That's all we get (I think?).  And this is it.
All of the things I want to see, all of the things I want to do, each day creeps up and steals another moment from me.  But I let it.  I have nobody to blame but myself.

I got into this mode of blaming.  Like, well, I can't do this because I have a baby.  I can't do this because I need to be around when the kids get home from school.  I can't do this because there isn't enough money.  I can't do this because what if I am not smart/good/ enough? 
So, so many I can'ts.  Is can'ts a word?  I think not. I just can'ts believe it.  OK, so I recognize that it is not a word but I am still using it because we are all bright enough to grasp the usage of it.  Right?

I have a Fifty by Fifty list of things that I want to do within the next ten years or so, and fifty things is a lot of things!  And fifty years old is OLD.  (No offense to anyone currently 50, over 50 or knocking on 50s door.  Really.  I just don't want to be that old yet.)  I don't feel 40 even!  I think 40 is the new thirty.  So maybe fifty is the new forty and when I actually do turn fifty it'll really just be like I am turning forty!  Woo, that just got a little confusing there.

I hate thinking about turning fifty.  I hate that each year goes by so fast and nothing will just slow it down.  I need to do stuff!  I need to see stuff!  There is so much out there to do and see and I feel like time and my opportunities are just slipping through my fingers.  I really am on a quest to see and do some of these things that I think are important, to me.

I know that plenty of people are content with what they have and really have no interest in getting out there too far, but I do!  And I want to be young enough for it to still be easy and fun. 

I keep adding to my places to go list, whenever I find a place that I want to see.  And I add things to my things to do list all of the time.  I am planning on crossing off several things on my 50/50 lis within the next few weeks.  I'll tell you all about my adventures when I am done. 

Sorry I left you with a cliffhanger!

Just stand up and fight like an ogre!

The other morning Brooke and I were lounging in bed snuggling, and I mentioned that it was about time to get up and get ready for school.  She glances over at me with her finger in her mouth and her blankie mushed up in her hands and says, "Why does school have to be so early?  I'm freaking tired!"

In my defense, I don't think I say freaking that often. 

But there was that little incident a month or so back when Brooke asked me all innocently, "Who the hell was that?"  when someone drove past us at the gas station. 

I suppose it could be way worse than freaking and hell.  I definitely am not exactly for swearing at my kids or in front of them really.  I think the worst they have heard me say is damn.  Yeah, I know how to curb it.  I am rather fond of swearing in my head.

Not that I don't love to throw out some awesome swear words as needed.  I just know my audience.  Knowing your audience is a very important thing.  It is actually something that I say to my kids all of the time.  Particularly Alex, who thinks mentioning something gross or inappropriate that someone at school did is good fodder for dinner table talk.

Is that the kind of thing you should be saying in front of your little sisters?   No, no it is not.  Would your grandmother want to hear that piggish joke you told your cousin?  Is that appropriate?  No, no it is not.  Or, would all of your relatives on your facebook profile appreciate that rude little comment you posted thinking you were being witty?  No, I'm thinking that they would not.

Know your audience.  Good rule to follow.

Anyway, Brooke is really funny.  She comes out with these hysterical one liners that seem to be so out of nowhere.  Yesterday she and Megan were hanging out on my bed, just talking to me while I was doing something, and Brooke hops up to her feet and puts her dukes up and says to Megan in all seriousness and rough-like, "Just stand up and fight like an Ogre!"  and then she proceeds to say, "I have my underwear on over my underwear!"  And she flashed us her two layers of underwear.  And ran giggling from the room to get more underwear layers on.

Who does that?

My mouth died and went to Heaven.

This weekend Alex and I attended a fundraising event for one of the senators here in NY.  Typically, I don't go to these things because for real, they are so boring.  Alex talks to all of these fancy people and I stand there looking and feeling like a dumb bell, hating my life. 

So, the reason I ended up going was because this particular fundraiser wasn't like the other boring ones Alex usually has to go to.  This one was being held at the Culinary Institute of American in Hyde Park.  I've always wanted to go there for dinner because I've heard that it has amazing food, but you usually have to make reservations about a year in advance unless you know someone.  I am not a year in advance kind of gal. I am way more of a fly by the seat of my pants, call the babysitter 15 minutes before I decide to go to the movies, spontaneous kind of gal.

So anyway, Alex assured me that he wouldn't really know anyone there besides the senator and I believed him.  Sometimes I forget that he is a big fat liar, but whatever.  I went to go put on my little black dress, and wouldn't you know, it was at the dry cleaners.  Either that or hanging in Alex's office because he didn't bring it home from the dry cleaners.  So that sucked because then I had to figure out what to wear and I hate clothes.  I hate having to figure out what to wear to fancy things.  I have been known to cry in my closet on more than one occasion.

Anyway, I found something acceptable to wear, and I felt OK about it.  The drive was really nice, about an hour and a half south of where we live, and right along the river.  We went through a lot of little towns that are really neat.  I wish we had left earlier because I wouldn't have minded stopping at a few places along the way -- particularly the little produce stands that pop up every few miles.  Only in these small towns can you drive past an unmanned produce stand with a sign that says "Help yourself."  You pay using the honor system -- right into an old coffee can with a slot cut out of the top to put your money in.  Gotta love the country. 

So anyway, after a nice drive we arrived at the CIA, and I was so impressed with the campus.  Rolling hills, great housing, gorgeous view of the Hudson River, and this huge building where the fundraiser was being held.  We walked in and chatted with the Senator and his wife for a few minutes, and then of course Alex says to me, "Wow, I know a lot more people here than I expected to!"

Which means, great.  I have to talk to people.  I make a terrible wife of a politician.  So I talked to people and smiled and was pleasant, because I know how to get my fake on as needed.  But I was really, really eyeing all of the crazy awesome looking food stations.  I couldn't help it!  Everything looked and smelled so good!

The students put on the events.  They prepare and cook and serve. They wear their little tall white chef hats and their aprons.  It was so cool.  And oh.  When I finally got to eat I was dying.  Dying.  My mouth died and went to heaven.  There was a party in my mouth and you weren't invited. 

There were several stations set up with all kinds of different foods, and apparently you were supposed to take small amounts, so you could sample stuff.  Whoa,  I sure did sample stuff.  I am not kidding the food was fantastic.  I had a few fancy salads that I wanted to smuggle home, and Tuna steak and Swordfish steak with couscous and rice-ish sides.  I had a pulled pork slider, and man, more stuff that I can't even remember.

Except the dessert table.  I cannot even begin to tell you how insane the dessert table was.  All of the stuff was in mini sizes, so I didn't feel too bad about sampling a lot of dessert.  I love dessert.  And I hardly ever get it so I think I went a little overboard.  I had some chocolate mocha layer cake, some apple crisp and homemade ice cream, some peanut butter cookie thing and a tiny little cheesecake, and then, then, there was this tiny little chocolatey chocolate mousse thing and I almost had a tear in my eye it was so great.

(Wait.  Do I sound hungry?  Piggish?  A little weird about the food?  If so, I apologize.  I was overwhelmed with the awesomeness of it all.)

So the dessert table was pretty much the end of the event.  I asked Alex if he would smuggle a chocolate thing home for me and that dumb loser wouldn't even do it!  So I smuggled one myself.  Because, obviously!  I think I was very sly about it.  Do you wonder why he doesn't take me to I don't attend more events with him?  We headed out and had to stop and talk a few more times, then I pretended I got a call on my cell and excused myself.  It was so great. 

When we got in the car, Alex was so proud that I talked to people and was sociable.   Because he knows being sociable is my worst thing.  Also, I guess he knows someone that can get us a reservation whenever, so I am really excited about going back.   And this time, we'll bring my sister and not have to make small talk with a bunch of fancy people.  And that is all sorts of awesome.

ps:  I ate the chocolate mousse thing on the car ride home like a slob with no fork.  Because I didn't smuggle a fork home.  And it was a long ride and really, who could wait to eat such an amazing little fancy chocolate thing?

what a wednesday

I was thinking that once the kids went back to school, I would have some time to lounge around and do nothing. 

So far so bad, Cod damn it.

I don't think there has been one day that I have lounged around and done nothing.

I really used to like lounging around and doing nothing, however, I did feel pretty lazy and like things weren't getting done.

So here is my day yesterday:

8ish:  Up and out of bed, begrudgingly.  Help Brooke along with wrapping up breakfast, getting dressed, teeth and hair brushed and backpack packed.

845:  Dropped Brooke off at school and drive to the gym

920-10:20: Gym

11ish: Home to shower, grab a quick Fiber One bar for breakfast

12ish: Pick up my mom from PT and run her home

100: Stop at grocery store for dinner stuff

130: Start a nice crock pot chicken soup

2ish: Neaten up messy house, laundry, dishes, playroom, pull out fall decorations

245:  Talk Megan through a rough day

315: Go pick Brooke up from school

330-5: Run home to pack snacks, potty break, listen to girls cry, whine and complain about going to Alex's soccer game.   Leave for soccer game, get lost, drive aimlessly for an hour, give up.

5ish:  Stop for fast food because girls are whining and hungry

600-730: Home, help with homework, sit down briefly & go online, serve up bowls of ice cream for dessert

730-8: Kids bedtime routine - shower, brush teeth, read Junie B Jones, fold laundry

815:  Make a grilled cheese sandwich, sit down and watch TV with a bowl of awesome chicken orzo soup and that yummy grilled cheese sandwich

845: Alex rolls in, half watches a little TV while gazing lovingly at his iPad, eats a grilled cheese and soup

945: Alex rolls out to pick up Alex from soccer bus

10ish: Hop in the tub for some relaxing.  Enjoy the tub time probably a little more than I should and stay in there for a really long time 

12ish: fall asleep

Yeah.  So anyway, that's been kind of the norm these days.  Where is the slot for a hot cup of hazelnut coffee and reading blogs on the comfy red chair, you ask?  There isn't one.

Today, it's raining so I didn't take a walk.  I decided, screw it, I am going to make a cup of coffee and sit on the red chair and read blogs and shop online because why not?    But guess what bad thing happened guys?  I went ahead and made a cup of coffee, the first one I have had in months!  And I had gotten this fat free vanilla creamer because they didn't have fat free hazelnut, and it sucked!  Sucked I tell you!  Vanilla creamer is nothing like hazelnut.  And fat free is nothing like not fat free.

I am not going to drink a sucky cup of coffee.  So I dumped it.

So here I sit, coffeeless.  But still reading and writing and lounging.  I'm going to say it's still a win.

We moved Kara to NYC this weekend.

It's funny, it feels very final.

It's weird, having kids in such different stages -- Kara, graduated from college and starting her own life, and then on the other end, Brooke losing another tooth and starting first grade.  The two in the middle of course, hitting all sorts of stages themselves.

moving mode, in front of new the apartment

Kara is actually renting an apartment with a girl she graduated from high school with, Elizabeth.  Elizabeth's family lived next door to ours in our first house, and the two girls pretty much spent every day together, playing Barbies or house, walking to school together,  playing in the yard, dancing and singing on the porch.  In high school, they sort of drifted away from each other.  The, though they both went to the same college, they never really hung out.

Funny how they connected back up.  Elizabeth already has a job in the city.  A summer internship at a record label lead to a job offer, so she's out there working every day.  She says it's really cool, and she's met some pretty high profile musicians, even singing back up on some recordings.

So right about now, Kara is putting her feelers out, trying to figure out what to do next.  She has some great contacts in her field, but she needs to get a job.  Her savings wont last forever in NYC, that's for sure.

I'm freaking out.  Her place is in a decent area, but it's still city to a country kid.  

So anyway, we spent Friday night cramming every thing Kara owns (and some things that I own, actually) into this nice new box truck that a friend lent us.  We took a few of Elizabeth's things too -- however Elizabeth is a minimalist, and Kara is the opposite of a minimalist.  A hoarder maybe?  Where Elizabeth could live out of a duffel bag, Kara had loads and loads of clothes and shoes and boots and seriously, it's a little on the ridiculous side.   

We met up with Elizabeth's parents and headed out in the morning. It was definitely an all day affair.    Unloading the truck, carrying everything up to a third floor apartment, cleaning and then setting up the place.  Before long it was after dinner and we had to head out. 

Driving away was hard.  I'm nervous.  I want Kara to be safe and make smart choices.  I want her to find a job and meet new people and have fun.  And man, coming home and seeing the emptiness that had been her space was weird.  It was all cleaned out, just a few misc things left for me to box up and store.

I guess this is what empty nests feel like...

Sheesh.  One kid down, three to go I guess.  I have another 15 years or so til it's really empty around here, but I am suddenly realizing how fast time goes.

That traditional back to school post.

So you know, my kids went back to school the other day.  WOOHOO!  Wait.  That may have sounded a snitch on the overexcited side.  Of course I am not overly excited that my kids went back to school.  Of course not.  Anyway, they went a bit later than most everyone out there because there were extenuating circumstances do to that old betch Irene.  As in Hurricane Irene.  Actually, there were not really extenuating circumstances in my town, it's just that our county legislator is dumb.  So anyway, most kids have already been back to school for a few weeks, so this obligatory back to school post might be a little anti-climactic.  Sorry about that.

Also, I had a huge, mother faux paux and messed up bad.

I did!  It's like the worst thing ever and I am sad.

In this picture Alex is all like, "OMG Mom, really?  I am a ninth grader now.  Don't even post this on facebook!"  and I was all like, "Zip is buster.  Just smile for one second!" 

You know how like, you have your kid stand at the front door with their little back to school outfit on and their little backpack all filled with the $125 worth of supplies that they are required to bring to school, holding their cute little lunch pails with their cute little clean hands, smiling that cute little I am going back to school! smile?  You know how while they are standing there you might force them take a picture, like every single year for every single grade for like, ever?

Guess who missed a kid?

Me.  That's right.  Mother of the year.

And just take a guess which kid got overlooked?  Of course, the one that everyone thinks gets the shaft half the time anyway.  Because, why wouldn't it be that one? 

Well, it isn't the worst most terrible offense ever because thankfully I got a group shot including poor cute little Megan.  But no individual.  Can you believe that??  How am I supposed to go ahead with the school year as if nothing is amiss without her individual first day of 5th grade picture in existence?  I am going to recreate it, that's what I am going to do.  Because really, who will know the difference?  I will call it a first week of school picture.  Because I can.  You're not the boss of me!

ANYway, day one went off without a hitch after the photography debacle.  Alex started high school this year, ninth grade and fourteen years old, omg.  Megan started middle school, fifth grade and 10 years old.  And little Miss Brookie made her way to first grade, just newly six years old.

I actually have one kid in each school here.  Thankfully the schools are all next to each other because I would be driving all over the damn place if not.

Three things of note that I should share with you.  One: Alex started his first year of JV soccer, and his first game was on Tuesday.  Guess who scored a goal??  That's right.  My boy did.  And they won against one of the toughest teams in their division!  Two: Brooke asked me who the hell was that? at the gas station the other day.  Shocking!  My only question is, where the hell do you suppose she picked that up?  Not from me!  Three:  Oh crap, I seriously had a three and it was about the girl who always gets the shaft, and I lost my train of thought.  I can't remember three! 

If I remember I will be sure to post it.

a little bit about apple picking

One great thing about living in the country in upstate NY is the easy access to local farm fresh food.

On a recent gorgeous day before the end of summer vacation, the girls and I went to a nearby farm to do some apple picking.  I am particular about the apples that I will eat, and I cannot resist fresh, picked right off the tree Macs.  I usually hit the farm stand every week or so this time of year for fresh fruit or cider, but actually going into the orchard and filling a bag yourself is a fun way to spend some time in the sun with your kids.

We also found some ripe juicy peaches, and ended up filling a big bag to take home.

.

After a nice home made apple crisp and a few days of school lunches, I am already needing to go back!

my high horse. kids and food and dinner issues.

Do you want to know something that I just don't get?

I don't get when parents allow themselves to be short order cooks for their kids.

Like, I just don't understand if you've planned a lovely meal of spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, but then you go ahead and make kid one chicken nuggets instead and kid two a grilled cheese sandwich instead, because well, um,  they don't really like spaghetti and meatballs.

Hm.  Guess what?  At my house, too bad.

When I was a kid, dinner was dinner.   That's it.  And if you didn't like it, well, then you went to bed kinda hungry and you ate a big breakfast the next day to make up for it.  No snacks, no substitutions, no dessert -- dinner was dinner.

I'm a little more lenient I guess.  I mean, Brooke isn't a fan of sauce, so when I make pasta, I leave her noodles bare.  Alex cannot stomach peas, so if I make like, a bag of mixed veggies, I don't care if he picks the peas out. 

But I am not making three different meals because of picky kids.  I feel like pickiness is 95% the parents fault for indulging it, 5% kids problem because they really just can't stomach something.  So basically, I'm coming right out and telling you it's your fault if your kid is a super picky eater.  Yeah I said it.  And I'm not sorry.

I promise, I am not about force feeding, or dinner time hassles.  I'm not going to make peas every night just to torture my kid.  But, I do expect my kids to eat what I make.  And if it's something that they don't love, they still have to eat at least a bite or two.  One big rule in my house is that my kids have to try everything on their plate.  And if they don't like it, well, I'll remember that.  But I am not making something else and they know it.  I don't think that's the least bit mean.

I think because my kids have always known that I am not going to make something else, they just kind of gave up about fighting it.  In all honesty, we rarely have dinner time issues, because this is something that they are well aware of and used to.  If anything, I am consistent.  My one great piece of parenting advice is consistency.  Life is easier when your kids know what to expect from you.  Trust me.

If you give your kid frozen Elios Cheese Pizza every single night because that is all they will eat, then pretty much you are setting yourself up for a life (and freezer full) of frozen Elios Cheese Pizza every single night.  You're also allowing your kid to be the boss, to set the tone, to make the rules.  And you're also setting your kid up for difficulties outside of your house.  What happens when they are invited to a friends for dinner and the mom serves meatloaf?  Are you going to send a little baggie with frozen pizza along with instructions on how exactly your kid needs it cooked?

Hate to break it to you, but your kid wont be getting a second invitation.

Clearly, if your child has allergies or other food issues, this little rant wouldn't apply.   

But what's wrong with the parent setting the rules, the tone?  Why can't you say, sorry you don't like the chicken parmigiana that I just made, you do not have to eat it, but the kitchen will be closed to you til breakfast if you don't at least eat some of it?

Your kid will not starve if you do this.  I promise.  And if they have a tantrum, they will eventually get over it.  And if they scream and fuss, it wont kill them if you walk away and ignore them.  My pediatrician always told me that kids will eat if they are hungry.  And it's true. 

And maybe, just maybe, one night of a grumbly belly will make them a little more interested in trying new foods, or things that they think they don't like.

ps -- You might be saying, ah, what's the big deal about just throwing my kid a grilled cheese sandwich if she doesn't want to try the chicken parm.  But just know that you're teaching her something valuable there, and it isn't a good thing.  And it also isn't just about the chicken parm.  You're teaching her that in life, she will be catered to if she doesn't like something, doesn't feel like doing something.  And she will sure have a rude awakening when she realizes that the real world doesn't cater to anyone.  And really, isn't it our job as parents to teach our kids how to manage themselves in the real world?