Top Ten Friday

Welcome to another edition of Top Ten Friday where I break it down.

But before we begin, I'm also guest posting at Southern Momentum today. Come check me out! I am their new "all things single" guru! Woot! Woot!

I was in Cincinnati yesterday for business and had to make an unexpected stop at WalMart on my way home. I was looking for a Target or SuperTarget because I despise WalMart, but couldn’t find one.

A few years ago, I swore I would never walk into a WalMart again, but yesterday, left me with no other options…So while I was patiently waiting in line with my one item behind the 10 people in front of me who were taking their own sweet time with super full carts and government checks, I was trying to think of ways to kill time.

Seriously, why does WalMart offer one thousand check out lanes but only open one at a time? I just don’t get it.

Anywho, in honor of my last visit ever to WalMart, I give you the Top Ten Things I like to do when I’m bored at WalMart.

You’re Welcome!

10. Ask to put a pack of gum on layaway.

9. Ride a display bike through the store and claim you’re taking it for a test drive.

8. Play frozen pizza Frisbee toss.

7. Start a game of hide and seek and see how many people you can get to join in.

6. Pull lawn chairs over to the demo tv’s and watch.

5. Hog the video game demos.

4. Put Kool-Aid in the toilets.

3. Throw a big exercise ball down the aisle and yell, “Go Pikachu Go.”

2. While looking at weapons in the hunting department, ask where the anti-depressants are.

And the number one thing I like to do when I’m bored at WalMart

1.Grab a basket full of condoms and birth control products and go to the oldest check-out person.

S.O.S

I know you probably think I'm crazy...I have never ever ever ever posted twice in one day! But today I have to...I'm sending out an S.O.S. for help on two things...

First...as I typed S.O.S. the thought that immediately came to my mind is what does S. O. S. mean? If anyone can tell me I would greatly appreciate it...I guess I could goolge it but I'm way to lazy for that.

Second...why can't I reply to individual comments in Blogger? I'm desperately trying to comment on posts that people leave on my blog, but I can't. I don't want anyone to think I am ignoring them, but I struggle with this and it is on my last nerve.

Third...ok, I know I said I only had two issues, but I lied...I really have three. My third is why can't I leave a comment on some blogs? Unless there is an option of "Name/URL" I can't leave a comment. There are so many blogs out there that I am dying to comment on, but I can't and I am soooooooooo frustrated!

So, PhotoMommy...this one is for you...You linked to my site today and I can't figure out a way to thank you. I've been reading your blog and have so many things I want to share with you, but can't!

It's never like it is in the movies

In case you don’t already know this about me, I am a celebrity gossip whore! I love all the magazines, People, US Weekly, OK, and star. I’m addicted, I can’t help it. As a part of my 2010 new years resolution I vowed not to purchase any of those magazines this year. It’s been tough, but I’ve been handling it pretty well. What I've learned is that a weekly family trip to the bookstore is quite refreshing. The boys and I go grab some books and magazines and spend some quite time reading (them) and catching up on Hollywood (Me). I love it! I love it not only because I now read the magazines for free, but I also love it because it encourages my kids to read as well. It’s a win win situation all around.

I have realized that I don’t need to purchase the magazines to get the gossip! I know, crazy concept, huh? I still get my celebrity gossip fill, while saving a few bucks, and no wasted paper on my part. Hey…I think this new years resolution may be my answer to becoming green!

Ok, Ok, you are probably asking yourself what the point of my post is today. Well, it has nothing to do with buying magazines, saving money or going green…nope. Today’s post is about some things in Hollywood that really irk me. And if they irk me, they are bound to irk you, so I thought I would share them with you, my two cents...

•Renee Zellweger’s new haircut- apparently it’s all the rage. Check it out…



…yep, I don’t get it either! Not only does this chick have the absolute worst hair cut ever but I am dying to prop open her eyelids with toothpicks. Apparently she got her hair cut in her dining room by a celebrity stylist. Apparently, this “pixie do” is the latest rage in Hollywood. Color me crazy, but I’m suddenly glad that I don’t get my haircut in Hollywood. This is by far one of the worst cuts I have ever seen on a celebrity.

Well, except maybe this one…



…but I’m not sure, it’s definitely a close 2nd!

•Countess LuAnn de Lesseps newly released single- Some of you may not be familiar with the Countess, but if you are a watcher of the Real Housewives of New York, you know exactly who I am talking about. This is her…



…She used to be married to a Count, but he cheated on her and now they are divorced. Classic Hollywood Fairy Tale…Anywho, she is currently writing a book on manners. And to promote her book, someone has convinced her that she should sing a song about manners too. It’s called Elegance is Learned. I was thinking about posting the youtube version of the song here but it is so horrible I didn't want to scare you off. I guess I just don’t get why Hollywood convinces these people that they should do these kinds of things. I mean seriously, just because she is a countess and has money doesn’t mean she can sing. Frankly, I think they are making a fool out of her and in my book that does not equal elegance!

•Betty White on SNL- Don’t get me wrong…I love Betty White just as much as the next person, but I am not ready for the cougar jokes…please, please, please SNL, I beg you…save the cougar jokes for Courtney Cox.


•Tough Love Couples- In case you haven’t heard of this show, it is a “relationship style bootcamp” show on VH1. The goal this season is for six couples to go through tough love lessons to try to save their relationships. At the end of the season the couples will either get married or break-up. I like the idea of the show, I really do, but what I don’t like about the show is the “counselors/therapists”. It’s these two…



…it’s a single guy and, wait for it...his mom! A single guy and his mom counseling couples on how to have a successful relationship? Really? An unmarried guy and his mom are the best people to give couples advice on successful relationships? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s almost like a football coach coaching a basketball team. Maybe I’m just old fashioned but I think if you are going to see a counselor about your relationship, it should be a marriage counselor and not a single mother, single son tag team duo.

•Simon Cowell- the fact that this dudes ego is so huge totally irks me! Look at this picture…



…you can see how much he loves himself by the look on his face and the cocky strut. My only question to you Simon is this, are they real or fake? (look at his pecs…they don’t fit his body) I think he took some of the filler from J Lo’s ass and had it injected into his pecs. But that’s just my opinion…

And last but certainly not least…

•The surge of men in Hollywood that think it is ok to cheat on their wives. This needs no explanation, just names. Tiger, Jesse, Tiki…what is your problem?







…I got news for you guys…you will NOT do any better than these women! If you think you have, give it a few years and you will eventually wake up and smell the coffee and it will be too late!

There you have it...that's just my two cents!

I just want to be one of you guys

Yesterday I was in the car with my two sons, Hamilton and Gibson and we got on the topic of role models. Hamilton, my oldest, asked me if I had a role model growing up. I was a competitive gymnast from 2nd grade until my senior year in high school, so yeah I did have a role model. It was Mary Lou Retton, the picture perfect athlete. She could do no wrong, in fact, she did no wrong. She was worthy of the title “role model”. Looking back at that time in my life, there were plenty of good role models to choose from. I could name a million people that took that role seriously.

The trouble nowadays is that my kids don’t have anyone to look up to. The men that they idolize and want to be when they grow up can’t seem to get their heads out of their asses long enough to make a good decision. These men often use the excuse of “I never signed up to be a role model” as a means to cop out on any bad decisions that they may make. But, as I see it, these guys get paid millions of dollars for both endorsements and playing sports, and these things automatically make them role models. It’s kind of like buying a car. The sticker price may be $25,000 but the doc fee is an additional $1,200 and no one ever tells you about it until you get in the finance office to sign the contract. But if you want the car, you know you have to pay it.

Take Tiger Woods for example, you can’t tell me that Nike would have paid him $34 million to be their spokesperson ten years ago if he were caught sleeping with fifteen plus women behind the back of his wife before they signed him on to represent their brand. No they wouldn’t have…because they paid him for his image. Why they are still paying him is beyond me. I do not buy the fact that he says he is remorseful. I’m sorry, but I just don’t. I know I shouldn’t judge, but when it comes to male figures that my kids look up to, I feel like I have the right to judge.

What about Ben Rothlesberger, the quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers? He has recently been accused of sexual misconduct, twice. That’s right, not once, but twice. And so far his only punishment is that he is going to have to sit out the first six games of the 2010/2011 season. I bet he still gets paid though. Seriously, what kind of punishment is that for a guy who is a role model to our kids?

I’m from Indiana and our family used to be, and I stress used to be, huge Indiana Pacer fans. But we no longer are because of the thugs that play for our team. And really, it’s not just our team, but the whole league. The NBA has had more guys than I can count get in public brawls, shoot outs, and inappropriate situations. And the worst part is that the repercussion from these incidents is usually minor compared to the action.

I know I shouldn’t complain about things unless I can offer a suggestion on how to improve them. So for this reason I have come up with what I think is a very viable solution to these bad decisions our kids “role models” are making. And here it is…

It is my belief that if you are playing a major league sport you should only get paid on two conditions; first, if your team wins, and second, if you stay out of the spotlight in a negative way. Seriously, that doesn’t seem like to much to ask for, does it? It would mean that these guys not only make better decisions in life, but that they live up to what they are being paid for, and bottom line, that is being a role model.

Honestly, I don’t think that is too much to ask for, do you?

One final thought: Peyton Manning, please don’t let us down. My 9 and 6 year old are counting on you to be the role model you claim to be. Don’t make me have to sit them down and talk about you and your decision making abilities too. We love you and look up to you and hope to for a very long time.

By george I think she's got it

As a single woman the two questions I get asked most by single men are,

1. What do you do for a living?
2. What are you working on?

I know, it seems weird, but it is what it is. The first one, “What do you do for a living” is the question I get asked most when I am out on the town with my friends, which as most of you know, is not much anymore. And the second question I usually get when I’m either at the bookstore or the coffee shop working on my book.

It never fails…it’s always one of those two.

I realized this weekend when I was packing up to leave the book store after a marathon writing session that my answers to these questions just might be what is scaring men off. I know it seems crazy, but it’s the only thing I can come up with.

After all, it can’t be “me”, because I am such a good catch, right?

Anyway, let me set the story up for you:

Scene: Me: hot, independent, single mom with nothing better to do on a Saturday night but sit at the book store working on my book. Laptop open, research scattered about, Venti coffee in one hand, pencil in the other.

Action: After a few hours of feverishly working away on my book I glance over to notice a tall good looking blond male staring at me. He kind of has a “Youth Pastor” vibe about him. Either I just pegged his job or it’s an occupational hazard for me. You see, I run a non-profit Christian Ministry during the week and I am usually surrounded by young “Youth Pastor” types.

Anyway, after sitting there for a couple of hours the Youth Pastor (as I will continue to refer to him) gets up to grab a stack of books to look at. After surfing through them for about 30 minutes he gets up to grab a cup of coffee. Once he is away from his seat, I look at the stack of books to see what is so interesting to him.

Major turnoff, all of the books are about narcissism…not good! But I digress.

I continue to feverishly work on my book. I think I’m onto something and don’t want to stop, but every once in a while I catch the “Youth Pastor” glancing my way. We play a game of cat and mouse with eye contact, but that’s about it. I’m trying to focus on my writing, I’m on a roll! About 9:45pm the bookstore employee comes over the PA to announce that the store will be closing at 10pm. I finish my last thoughts and start to pack up. The Youth Pastor finally gets the balls to strike up a conversation.

Youth Pastor: You look like you are working on something very important.

Me: I am. I’m writing a book!

Youth Pastor: May I ask, what it’s about?

Me: Sure, it’s about surviving after divorce

Youth Pastor: (turning pale) Sounds interesting, have a great night.

Me: (smiling uneasy) You too!

Wa wa wa…that’s it! You see, my answers to those two questions are 1.)run a non-profit Christian Ministry, and 2.) writing a book about divorce. And these answers, no matter which way you look at them, tend to scare men off. When I meet men in a bar they are usually immediately turned off by anything Christian related and when I meet available men outside the bar they are usually turned off by the fact I am writing a book about surviving divorce.

I just can’t catch a break!

I’m sure if I would have met that particular hot Youth Pastor at a bar and he asked what I did for a living, he might be interested in hearing me talk about my profession, but somehow the odds of me meeting a Youth Pastor at a bar are pretty close to zero. And to be honest with you if I met a guy at a bar and he said he was a Youth Pastor I would probably be totally turned off.

It’s a no win situation, a vicious cycle if you will! Whatever is a girl to do?

Out of asprin, try a nail to the head

For those of you that don’t know this already, my dad lives in my house with me and my two sons. We absolutely adore having him around all of the time, but there are days when I seem to be at the bottom of my rope and just can’t take it.

Take last week for example. I am at work, working very hard. Ok, you caught me, I was actually catching up on some old email correspondence, but I was sitting at my desk, in the office where I work…so I counted it as working.

Anywho, the phone rings and as always, I look at the caller ID first. I like to be prepared for what is coming my way. It’s a little after 4pm and the screen shows that it’s my house, I think it’s probably one of my kids wanting to talk to me after they had gotten off the school bus.

But no, it was nothing like that, it was my dad…thought you might enjoy hearing how our conversation went.

Me: Thank you for calling ABC company, this is Julie.

Dad: How do I get this beeper thingy to stop making noise? (that's right, no "hello", no "are you busy"...nothing)

Me: Huh?

Dad: This beeper thingy is going off and it is driving me nuts.

Me: Dad, I have no idea what you are talking about.

Dad: You know this thing that keeps time…it’s beeping in the kitchen and it won’t shut off, no matter which buttons I push.

Me: Is it the microwave timer dad?

Dad: No, it’s this beeper thingy you have in the kitchen.

Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about…is it the oven timer.

Dad: NO! The beeper thingy that you use, I have pushed all three buttons and none of them make this thing stop.

Me: Dad, I have no idea what you are talking about, if it is driving you nuts put it in the garage and I will figure it out when I get home.

Dad: It’s this little timer thingy that you have on the table in the kitchen.

Me: (having a light bulb moment) oh you mean the stop watch. (I say sarcastically)

Dad: Yes, the beeper thingy.

(mental note: Beeper thingy = Stop Watch)

Me: Isn’t there a stop button?

Dad: Yes, I pushed it. It’s not stopping.

Me: I don’t know dad, Gibby must have messed with it, because it wasn’t beeping this morning when I left. Just put it outside I will deal with it when I get home.

Dad: No, that’s ok, I will just keep messing with it until it stops…

Really? I cannot believe I had that conversation with my dad over the phone while I was at work. God bless him.

The man makes me laugh more times than not…but I have had to learn not to let these types of situation get to me.

However, I have yet to figure out how to deal with it when he calls me pissed that I didn’t make my bed before I left for work.

You can’t teach an old dog new tricks…him or me.

Top Ten Friday

Has going green become more of a trend than a solution?

I guess I ask this question because so many of my friends sent out Happy Earth Day messages yesterday that suggested we all “do our part” to make this world more green. But when I ask what I can do to become more green, I’m never given any solutions beyond reusable grocery bags and special light bulbs.

I’m willing to do my part but to me there is nothing more irritating than people who are hypocrites when it comes to “going green”. Especially those Hollywood types that drive their little Prius’ and then fly first class all around the world on Commercial or Private Jets. Really? Is that really helping our carbon footprint?

I could go on for pages about this topic, but instead I will just share with you the Top Ten Reasons why I struggle to go Green!

*best if read with a hint, oh who am I kidding, a ton of sarcasm.

10. Unplug Electronics- ok, but if I do that how will my kids eat…You that know me, know that if it weren’t for microwaves, my kids would starve.

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by unplugging electronics.

9. Take the bus- I’m more than willing to take the bus to work, but in order to get to the nearest stop from my house I would have to actually drive past my office. So I guess my boss can take this post as my “call in to work” free pass. There just isn’t a “green” way to get to work. So "sorry Mrs. Boss but from here on out I will be working from home”.

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by taking the bus.

8. Wash clothes in cold water. I don’t know about you guys, but this grosses me out. Are clothes really clean without hot water? I’m ok with the jeans and sweaters in cold, but the underwear, sheets, towels and socks…that’s just plain disgusting!

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint with laundry.

7. Exchange CD’s and DVD’s instead of buying new ones. Question…what do I do if I illegally download all of my stuff? I’m not saying I do, just asking “for a friend”…

Sorry I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by exchanging CD’s and DVD’s.

6. Buy used electronics- I guess if I had anything but a microwave, this might be ok. Trust me, my kids would love to have a used Wii, or Xbox, or stereo for that matter, but those are just luxuries we don’t have in our house. Maybe I will send this suggestion on to their dad, his house makes up for our lack of in this area.

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by purchasing used electronics.

5. Take shorter showers. Whoever said this obviously doesn’t have a 9 year old boy in their house who either just discovered that long showers are relaxing or that they..ahem.. “feel” good. If it’s the “feel good” part, I don’t want to know. This is me ignoring that statement by plugging my ears and singing “la la la la” at the top of my lungs. I can’t hear you so you must not be talking about why my son likes long showers…

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by taking shorter showers.

4. Borrow from libraries. This may be good for some, but I have had a book checked out from the library since my senior year in High School. If I went back now I would owe thousands of dollars…my bank account cannot handle this form of being green.

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by checking books out from the library.

3. Make your own cleaning products. Heck, I can’t even manage to make a home made meal for my kids, what makes you think I will be able to make cleaning products…pffft…

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by making my own cleaning supplies.

2. Hang my clothes out to dry. Uhhh, I don’t think my neighbors would appreciate my lingerie blowing all across their backyards. Hey, don’t judge, I’m a single mom with needs.

Sorry, I will not be lowering my carbon footprint by making my own cleaning supplies.

1. Purchase reusable cloth shopping bags. Now this, I can handle. I have actually done this. Woot! Woot! My question to you is this, how do I go shopping without sweating and wondering if the cashier is going to think that I stole their reusable bags every time I go to the store?

Sorry Earth! I’m trying, I really am…you know I love you!

Jealous much

Wow! Two celebrations in one week…

First there was my feature day over at SITS, which, by the way, I am still recovering from. It’s like a hangover (a good one, if that’s possible) that just won’t go away. AND I LOVE IT.

And now this…my 200th post! I can’t believe I have written 200 blog posts. Could that be right? Is the math correct? Me, talking that much to you guys on two hundred different instances? I have to say, I am a little surprised after all those years I spent being a shy, soft-spoken, Hello Kitty collecting, Donnie Osmond loving misfit in my youth. I guess all those bottled up dreams and thoughts had to come out at some point or another.

In celebration of my big day, I thought I would share with you some random things I know about the number 200…

1. Did you know that someone in North Carolina successfully passed off this $200 bill



bearing George W. Bush’s portrait and a drawing of the White House complete with lawn signs reading “We like ice cream” and “USA deserves a tax cut.” The phony Bush bill was given to a cashier at a grocery store for $150 worth of groceries.

2. 200- the amount of money I save monthly now that I have booted Toxic Friend from my life. (looking back, I can't believe that I partied that much when we hung out...that's embarassing!)

3. Did you know that it costs our government $200 million dollars every time an Air Marshall makes an arrest? I’m of the humble opinion that any passenger in need of being arrested in air by an Air Marshall should be duct tapped to the wing until landing. It would not only save us tax dollars but I believe it might be good entertainment for the passengers as well. (“Uh, this is your Captain speaking, if you look out your windows to the left you will notice a man duct tapped to the wing…”)

4. 200- the number of times I look at the clock daily wishing it was time to leave work.

5. It cost 7 million dollars to build the Titanic and 200 million to make a film about it.

6. 200- the number of times I ask my kids daily to make their beds

7. Every day 200 million couples make love (what? Why am I not a part of that stat)

8. 200- the amount I spend on car insurance a month. Hey, that's what happens when you have (1) wreck, (1) parking ticket, and (2) speeding tickets in the past six months.

9. In 1970 there were 200 million cars in the world, today there are over 600 million.

10. 2000- the average number of times I usually text in one month

Ok…so those weren’t all about the number 200, but at least all the numbers had a two and two zeros in them, right?

Stick with me kids…I can justify anything to make it fit the way I want.

Let me drop some knowledge on you

Have you seen these?



Maybe you don't recognize them in that particular form. Here is a close up of a couple...





Still nothing? Still don't recognize them?



What about now? Do you recognize them now?



No no, not the adorable boys, but the “silly bands” on their wrists…

Have these hit your neck of the woods yet? If not look out, Silly Bands are on their way. The goal is to collect as many as possible, wear them all at once, and then trade them with your best friends. We are currently on the hunt for the wizard hat.

Apparently it is the “rarest” of all silly bands.

Either that or it’s my kids ploy to get me to drive them all over God’s country to find it, hoping that once we find it we will be so excited and buy it, no questions asked.

Yeah, I’m easy, I’m a sucker when it comes to this kind of stuff for my kids. Why, you may ask?

Because when I was growing up my parents were always the kind of parents I swore as a kid I would never be, but hoped as an adult I would be strong enough to be. They were the kind of parents that didn’t buy into the silly fads that changed monthly, sometimes weekly. They resisted, no matter how much we begged.

You see, I always wanted one of these…



But somehow ended up with one of these...



I also wanted one of these



So my mom went out into the yard, found a large rock and glued a couple of eyes on it that she had stashed away in an old craft box. I was mortified.

It was that moment as a child that I swore I wouldn’t do that to my kids. As I got older and actually became a mom, I also swore I wouldn’t give in to these silly things. But in the last six months we have somehow managed to purchase (2) phiten necklaces, umpteen Japanese erasers, and about 50 million silly bands, all because of a promise I made to myself as a kid.

Now I’m off to buy Barbies Dream House, a couple of trapper keepers, one papa smurf doll, lace fingerless gloves, a pair of Roos, and (1) brightly colored feathered roach clip…for my hair people, for my hair!

Oh happy day

Today is my day! Oh yeah baby...it’s all about ME!

Today is my day in the spotlight with SITS, a blogging community full of awesome women!

If you are a first time visitor, WELCOME! Come on in and take a look around. If you’ve been here before...well, you know what to do!

I’m so excited you are all visiting on my special day. I feel like I should be thanking my fellow blogistas, my family, and of course, the academy for this honor. In fact, I am so pumped with adrenalin today that it makes me want to challenge Jack Pallance to a one armed push up contest at the podium...if only he were still here...I would so do it!

Wow, I hope that didn’t just scare you off. For those of you brave enough to stick around I have linked you to a few of my favorite posts that I hope will make you smile.

Click here to learn a little bit about my retirement package. I hope this can’t be construed as child abuse...legal advice on this would be much appreciated!

Here is where I talk about the sexual revolution and how it has warped the society we live in today.

And here is a doozie…this is one of my many first date experiences. Check it out and catch a glimpse of what us single thirty somethings are dealing with on the dating front

Oh and because I’m not just all about receiving…I have a little gift for all of you that stop by today.

Check it out below…feel free to use it as many times as you wish!

Excuse me, this is a bathroom, not a phone booth

While today’s topic has nothing to do with bathrooms and phone booths, I thought it was funny when my Aunt said it, so I decided to use it as a title. Today’s topic is as far away from the topic of bathrooms as possible it’s more about Social media and how I can’t seem to live without it.

When I think about how far technology has come in the past twenty five years it makes me laugh. In fact, it often reminds of a time when I was 18 and I was babysitting my boss’ son, Zak. Zak at the time was about 3 or 4.

This was the time of the old “bag phones”.


Remember these…they were a complete hassle and only the wealthiest of the wealthy had them. Or those with the largest of egos…

Anyphone…Zak and I were out and about when I needed to stop and call his mom and dad. As we were looking for the nearest gas station to find a payphone Zak so innocently said “why don’t you just use your phone?” My first thought was “well only rich people like your parents can afford that phone”. Then I decided I should just let him know how normal people live.

I said, “Zak, honey, not everyone can afford the bag phone, just like only a few people can afford cars with automatic windows. Most of us can’t afford bag phones and have ‘armstrong windows’ (you know the ones where you actually have to crank the shaft to get the windows down).” So we get to Zak’s house later that day and he goes running into the arms of his mom and dad and immediately says, “daddy, you don’t pay Miss Julie enough, she can’t afford a bag phone or a car without Armstrong windows”.

Needless to say his parents were a little puzzled and my face turned beet red.

But the moral to the story is, at that time, I lived perfectly content, without a “cell phone”. Now jump ahead almost twenty years.

I.CANNOT.LIVE.WITHOUT.MY.PHONE!

In the midst of all this new technology, I struggle to get by without texting and feel lost on days that I don’t change my FaceBook status. I have been forced to embrace more and more methods of digital social networking over the years. This has made me, in a sense, mourn the loss of the human connection. The world is smaller than it has ever been and we are connected more than ever. We can chat with our friends at work and interact with people all over the world at the touch of a finger. Yet, we are the lonliest people group ever. We chat with people all day long on our computers yet we know no one in our neighborhoods.

Just yesterday, I made the mental note to email my neighbor Jodi about her son’s birthday party this weekend instead of going outside and striking up a conversation with her. It’s sad. I’m not proud!

This makes me sad. While my preferred method of communication is texting, I miss the excitement of getting to know someone, face to face. The minute I know the first and last name of someone I am going on a date with, I google them. I’m sure they do the same with me. But my question is this, what ever happened to the days when everyone knew everyone? You could walk into the local restaurant, library, or gas station and learn nearly everything you wanted to know about your pending date.

Now we no longer date the average Joe in our neighborhood. Instead we search online for our long lost loves, for our soul mates, for our future. We rate our status by how long our friends list is on FaceBook. And we share our life stories through the blogging network in hopes to make people laugh, share our dreams, or maybe, just maybe help someone in need along the way.

Technology makes me long for the days of my youth when things were much simpler, when we actually talked to our friends face to face. There was no texting, no IMing and no social networking. I long for the days when face to face introductions was the commonplace. And first dates were much more exciting because we didn’t know anything more than what our friends told us.

Ahhhh…memories! It makes me wonder what my kids will be saying in 20 years. Will we be hopping in our flying cars and putting on our space suits while avoiding our neighbors in the next air chamber over?

Vaginal Firewall Protection?

I came across an online article this week announcing Germany’s rival to the iPad. They call it the WePad. I’m not sure about the differences or why Germany thinks it's better, but it definitely got me thinking about the naming of technology.

Obviously the name iPad was created by a group of men. I guarantee there wasn’t one woman included in that meeting!

Anywho…I realized, after very little thought, that I could probably come up with at least ten equally bad names for the iPad.

So here is today's top ten list list of my favorite alternative names for iPad

10. iHuhPad

9. iWhywouldanyonewantobuyagiantiphonePad

8. iSuckerPad

7. iWTFPad

6. iOwePad

5. iPadYeahApple

4. iWhatPad

3. iCanlookatpornanytimeiwantPad

2. iAmcompensatingformysmallpenisPad

And my number one favorite alternative name for the iPad is…

1. iSeriouslyneedtorunthtenamesthroughafocusgroupfirstPad

But wait…the fun doesn’t stop here. Check out this video HERE that the good folks at MadTV put together a year or so ago when they first heard about the iPad. I promise you will laugh so hard you cry while watching this video…

LIFE LESSONS: The one where I talk about the itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini

Last week was Spring Break in the He Who Laughs Last household. Hamilton and Gibson spent the first part of the week with their dad, swimming and hiking in southern Indiana and the second part of their week with me.

Because I like to be considered the cooler parent, I try to come up with fun ideas that I know their dad won’t do with them. So I stepped up to the plate and took them to Great Wolf Lodge for a couple of days. The boys consider this place “heaven on earth” while I refer to it as “the money pit.” Don’t get me wrong, we had a blast but dollar for dollar this place is a rip off.

Don’t worry this post is not going to be a complaint session, well, ok, maybe a slight complaint session! I really only had two issues the entire time we were there and none of them have to do with the actual facility.

First, let me tell you how much fun this place is. (6) major water slides that are all a blast, a water coaster that we couldn’t get enough of and an awesome splash park. I would highly recommend this place to everyone for a couple of days of fun.

So you might be asking yourself, what is it about this place that you don’t like Julie?

Well…here goes…

It’s this…


And this...


And this...


Yep…you guessed it, it was the moms and their itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikinis. I have one word that describes wearing these kinds of bikini’s at a facility like this…

INAPPROPRIATE!

Don’t get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing wrong with an itsy bitsy bikini normally, but at a water park that is focused around those that are twelve and under it is not right. I’m not even saying that moms shouldn’t wear a bikini. Believe me, if I could, I would. But do you really have to wear your tiniest one? Don’t you have one with, let’s say, maybe 3 or 4 inches of material.

Something more than four triangles and couple of strings is all I ask.

And my second issue is this…this is what we spent a majority of our time doing...





Yep, we played water basketball…

Lessons learned:

1. The more material the better when it comes to the bikini at a water park

2. Supply your kids with a hoop, ball, and baby pool full of water and you spare yourself the $500 expense of a couple of days at a water park.

In 30 years

The other day I was flipping through the channels and came across a show that caught my attention. It was one of those news shows like 48 Hours or 60 minutes. They were doing a story on the friendships of women. In this particular story they were talking about how much women value their friends and often fight harder for these relationships than they do their own marriages. This struck me as odd, but it was also reassuring at the same time.

You see, I have the BEST friends in the world. I know most women would say that about their friends, but I can honestly say, none are better than mine. I have SuperMom, my best bud of all time whom I have been friends with for 30+ years. I have my best “single girlfriend” who lives in Arizona that keeps me sane through all of her voice mails, texts messages and emails.

And then I have my core group of friends that I cherish more than anything. Some of us have been friends longer than others but as a core group we have all been friends for about 8 years. I value these women more than life itself. I would do anything for them and they would do anything for me. Between us we have 22 kids.

A few years ago we went to New York for a long weekend to celebrate the 40th birthday’s of some of the girls and we thought we were so cool when we told people that we had 21 kids (at the time) between the 7 of us…the waitress at Crackle Barrel, however, didn’t think it was so cool. I don’t think the boys in the bars would have thought we were that cool either, so we chose not to share that particular statistic with many people.

I look forward to any day that I get to see any of my friends. Because we are all so busy with our kids and jobs it is sometimes tough to make time for each other. But we try our darndest to get together at least once a month.

My favorite gathering is always our Cookie Exchange in December. We come together to celebrate our friendship, our lives, and the meaning of the season. Each year I get a little teary eyed as I look back at all of the events in our lives that we have celebrated, cherished, laughed at and cried over. We have been there for each other through our marriages, children, divorce, sick parents, vacations, deaths, 40th birthdays, illnesses, triumphs, disappointments and challenges. Everything that friends go through, we go through together.

The best part of our friendship is when I think about being friends with these women for another 30+ years. My heart is overflowing with emotion at that thought.

These girls are my angels.

My heart.

They are my home...my rock.

I feel so very lucky to be surrounded by such amazing friends. After all, it’s not every day that you surround yourself with the type of friends that would march over to your ex-husbands house with billy clubs prepared to rip his toe nails out one by one if asked.

"Friendship isn't a big thing, it's a million different little things." -Author Unknown

It's almost like it's not even up to me

Writers block…ever had it? I do!

For days now I have been searching deep inside for something, funny, enlightening, unusual, rich and honest to talk about. What the heck? I can’t seem to come up with anything. I feel like I’ve written about everything, what more do I have to say that people want to hear?

I could write about the date that led to nowhere…literally, nowhere. We got lost on a dead end street. I thought (hoped) he was going to take advantage of me, but much to my dismay it wasn’t a ploy, we really were lost. But that’s a story for another time.

Or I could write about my love of celebrity gossip and how I can’t seem to get enough, but too much Speidi talk could turn anyone away fast.

I could write about how much I hate to see awesome women put up with S*%$# they don’t deserve from douche bag guys, Sandra Bullock anyone?

Or I could even break down my top 10 list of things that I think Tiger Woods could learn from Phil Mickelson, but I really want to save that for a Top Ten Friday post.

I just can’t decide!

I guess in true He Who Laughs Last fashion, I will have to revert back to my “safety topic”…LOVE.

After all these years, and 190+ blog posts later I have come to the conclusion that love might just be the craziest, funnest, scariest, most awkward part of life. We all learn about love and loss at an early age. For most of us, it’s probably when our pet fish dies and our family hovers around the toilet bowl to talk about our favorite memories of the fish before we ever so tearfully flush him down the toilet with the best intentions of sending him to the nearest retention pond to be revived by other fish that love him. (dang that was the longest run-on sentence I have ever NOT edited)

But still your heart breaks. You try to mend it with some ice cream and a sucker. And you may even begin to think that your heart may never heal. You realize in the innocence of youth that love gets under your skin and does unspeakable things to you. But after a few weeks something stirs in you and you suddenly can’t wait to go buy another fish.

Last night I started the daunting task of cleaning out my ginormous closet. I hate this process but because I am so lazy I find that I have to do it a couple of times a year. One day I may wake up and realize that if I would just put the clothes away correctly each time, I might not have to clean out my closet so much…but I digress, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

Anywho…while I was cleaning it out I came across a box that had yet to be unpacked from my move, almost five years ago. I had absolutely no idea what was inside. As I opened the box I saw the ring box that was once handed to me on bended knee asking for my hand in marriage. My first thought was how awesome it would be to open the box and find the ring inside it. But then I remembered that I donated it to charity last year. My next thought was how I smiled when I said “yes”. You see, it was completely unexpected. I had dated my ex-husband for 7 years before he proposed. I had almost become comfortable with the fact that we would never get married. Then for a moment I let myself get sad over how deeply my heart broke when my marriage ended…but only for a moment!

I hate the fact that love can be lost, but I love the fact that love can stop time forever even more.

The cynical part of me wants to jump ahead 15 years from that moment in time and hit myself over the head. Bring me back to reality. A reality of the 50% club. You know the club…it’s either the 50% of all marriages succeed club or the 50% of all marriages fail club. I happen to be in the failure club and am reminded daily of the vicious cycle of relationships. The cycle that I am scared to death of ever getting involved in again.

You know the one I am talking about:

1. Boy meets girl

2. Sparks fly

3. Picture 2.5 kids and a white picket fence

4. Honeymoon phase of a new relationship

5. Comfort zone and discussions about the future start

6. Engagement

7. Marriage

8. 2.5 kids, 1 dog, 1 cat, a hamster and a fish

9. The fighting begins

10. The sex slows down and eventually stops

11. Questions arise

12. You begin to rethink the whole marriage thing

13. Divorce

Wow! That’s something to look forward to again, right? I try to stay optimistic in the face of society telling me that if I get married for a 2nd time, the chances of it surviving are about 35% and that the seven year itch is more like the five year itch. I try to keep my head above water…but sometimes just want to stop treading.

So from the dead fish, to my first love, to my ex-husband, to all the men I have ever had a moment with all I have to say is that love is a crazy thing.

Here’s hoping to the love I find in the future, that it may never be lost.

Waiting is the time between the wish and life

This weekend I had the distinct pleasure of spending a couple of days with my boys at Great Wolf Lodge in Cincinnati, OH. For those of you that aren’t familiar with this place, it is an “indoor theme park” of sorts. They have water slides, play areas, pools, ships, water guns, obstacle courses, scavenger hunts, an arcade, and any other shiny pretty thing that would attract the eye of a child. The boys call this place “heaven on earth.” I, however, like to refer to it as “the money trap.”

Even though our time there was non-stop and active every single hour of the day, I still had plenty of time to think.

After all, thousands of people + 6 water slides = long lines

But never fear, I used my time wisely. While standing in these lines I started thinking about the society we live in. You know, the one where we want everything and want it NOW! We live in an instant world with instant coffee and instant messaging. We wait for NOTHING! We can fast forward our commercials, email our letters and drive through for banking, meals, prescriptions and laundry.

And because we are accoustomed to waiting for nothing we tend to get irritated when we have to wait for our computers to boot up, our cars to warm up and the doctor to call us back when our kids are sick. It’s times like these when life seems slow. Very slow. Sometimes, unbearably slow.

So while I was toe taping and counting the number of people in front of me in line I started thinking about the things in life that are WORTH waiting for, and I was honestly surprised at how many things I was able to come up with

• My grandma’s home made Oatmeal Raisin cookies

• Babies

• First kisses

• Chance meetings

• A proper good bye

• Handwritten notes

• My birthday

• Christmas morning with my kids

• Someone who loves me, even on the days when I don’t necessarily love myself

• Fresh tomatoes from the garden

• The perfect pair of jeans that cost more than my monthly car payment

• The perfect Mother’s Day gift, a macaroni necklace, or a hand painted pot

• When “I love you” is said sober, fully clothed, and vertical

• Good movie sequels

• Waiting for your friend to send you pictures of Ryan Reynold’s butt

• Snapping the perfect picture

• The happy squeals of my boys

• The first time you run into an ex while on another date

• Hitting all the green lights on your way to work

• Chest hair to come back in style

• A salad made by someone else

• The perfect man

• The perfect milkshake

• The first beautiful day of Spring

Suddenly waiting doesn’t seem so bad.

Beep Beep...the birthday train is coming through

This is my dad.



Today he is 68.

Today he is enjoying the greatest gift of all.

Peace and quiet

Because Hamilton, Gibson and I are here…



…enjoying the last days of Spring Break.

But just because we aren’t under the same roof as him on his birthday doesn’t mean we don’t want to celebrate him.

My dad is AWESOME! He is a gentle man with a heart of gold. He has a sharp mind and a quick wit. He is a great dad and an even better “Papa” to Hamilton and Gibson.

From the moment my ex walked out on us, my dad has stepped up to the plate and picked up the pieces. (Hello, EX, you owe him BIG TIME for this!)

He is more than just a Papa to Hamilton and Gibson. He is their role model. He is the one who teaches them to love unconditionally and to have a heart for those that aren’t as privileged as us. He is the one who teaches them about compassion and giving more than receiving. He is the one they turn to when they need to talk to someone other than their mean old mom. He is the one Hamilton and Gibson count on being at every game, at every school performance and there every time they skin a knee.

When Papa isn’t there, it’s not a good day.

In fact, in my house, when I get home from work I often hear things like, “papa’s home…oops, I mean, mommies home,” or “hey papa, I mean mommy, can I have a snack?” My kids are so wired to go to my dad first to fulfill their needs that I often get hurt feelings. But I know how important it is for my boys to have a good male role model, so I swallow my pride and know that I couldn’t think of a better man for them to turn to.

My dad is a great story teller. His stories are often funny and exaggerated, but cherished none the less.

He is one of the most compassionate people I know and I am grateful to have gotten that quality from him. In the days that my mom was sick I had never seen a better caregiver. He gave up everything for her, not because he had to, but because he wanted to, just like he did for me in my time of need. He saw me hurting and gave up his life as he knew it, to be a support to us.

I believe that my dad would say the true measure of a man is in the way he treats others. He has showed me, by example, that you treat people with compassion, kindness and a gentle hand.

And in an effort to show him how much that example has meant to me and my kids…we got the hell outta dodge for the evening to let him enjoy the peace and quiet of an empty house.

You’re welcome Dad!

Happy Birthday!

An Open Letter

Dear Future Mr.,

While I am anxiously awaiting your fairy tale arrival into my life, I feel like I should warn you that due to my amazing ability to be completely unprepared for the unexpected, chances are when we meet here in the near future, my hair will be a mess, I will look disheveled with a stain or two on my shirt and I will have probably mistaken you for the waiter, the salesman, an egomaniac, a married man or the lifeguard.

Please forgive me!

When you subtly hint at asking me out during one of our very entertaining, funny conversations please don’t take my “blank stare” reaction as one of not wanting to take you up on your offer. You see, it is so rare these days that I get asked out on a “date” date that I probably wouldn’t even know it if it hit me over the head with a big “obvious” sign attached.

But rest assured when I finally “get it” I can promise you I won’t show up to our date in a sleek, dark, shiny , spotless car, because cars never impressed me much. I will never be the girl who can impress you by talking about the horsepower, engine or size of rims. Heck I can’t even promise you my car will be clean. In fact, let me just lay it on the line for you right now, if you ever do get the opportunity to be a passenger in my car, you should be comfortable with the fact that the cheerios, goldfish and sucker sticks that adorn the floor of my car love to attach themselves to pants, shirts and jackets of unsuspecting passengers. I can also promise you that there will be a pair and a half of gloves, one broken window scraper, one empty air freshener, several half empty water bottles, football cards, McDonald's Happy Meal toys and a few books about God somewhere in the car.

I will be the girl who can off red lipstick, high heels and a dress with a neckline down to there, but only on the first date. After that there is more of a chance of me leaving the house in comfortable jeans and a shirt. I will never be around to watch baseball on TV with you and there is a huge possibility that I will scream frantically when something with four, six or eight legs goes scurrying across the floor. So please don’t laugh at me, because if you do, I might just have to bring up how you are scared of clowns just to even the score.

But seriously, it gets better.

I will tell you that I can cook. You will be thrilled at that statement until you actually see my version of cooking. It involves mostly items that you can take out of the freezer, pull the film back and heat in the microwave. On high. For five minutes. And the fact that I shout “holymothershitmothershitthat’shot” every single time I pull your dinner out of the microwave, will make you laugh at first, but trust me, it won’t take long for you to roll your eyes and get irritated that I just can’t seem to figure out that that dang plastic dish is gonna be hot!

Every once in a while I will try on a couple of different pairs of jeans before we go out and ask you which one make my butt look smaller. And if you say “they both look the same” or “your butt looks small in those, but your belly looks big (like Gibson often does)” I will kick your ass and then gently remind you which pair makes me look better. And when you ask me why I find it necessary to own 42 pair of jeans I will attempt to explain to you that they are all different. You will lose interest, possibly even dose off, heck, you might even look at me like you hear what I am saying. I will know you aren’t really interested in the answer, but I definitely appreciate you giving it your all and showing an interest. If you’re I might even show you my appreciation by letting you help me fold a load of those clean jeans.

But…

I will be the girl that makes you chicken noodle soup when you aren’t feeling well, I will run home at lunch to let your dog out when you get tied up at work. I will surprise you with breakfast in bed every once in a while. I will constantly remind you of how sexy I think you are. I will sing your praises to all my friends. I will love you unconditionally. I will remember the name of your favorite childhood game and first girl that ever broke your heart. I will drink beer with your friends, laugh at your jokes, and cherish our relationship.

We will be one of those cool couples that love to be with each other, but also understands the importance of alone time or time away with our friends. We will be one of those couples that enjoys PDA when we are the ones involved and laugh at those expressing PDA when we aren’t involved. We will try all of those Cosmo approved sex tricks that we sometimes laugh at but insist on trying. I won’t tell anyone that you like to dance if you won’t laugh at me every time I cry while watching a movie that I have already seen. I will stay up late watching sports with you and will tell my friends how lucky I am to have you.

Of course I realize that our initial meeting could go exactly like this or it may not. But I thought I should at least let you know in advance that I am less scared of you now than I once was. And when we do meet, I’m sure I will be charmed, that is of course, if I don’t mistake you for a salesman.

Looking forward to our first awkward encounter.

Inspired by this.

I can't fix what's made to be

WARNING: This is NOT my typical post. If you have come here looking for the normal shits and giggles that you often get at He Who Laughs Last, I suggest you move on for the day. Today’s post is abnormally serious, but one I must broach. I promise, I will be back on the up and up, and by up and up I mean I will be funny again SOON.

I don’t know about you, but I often miss the little girl whose dreams had no barriers, who believed in a world where anything was possible, who had a heart that was full and unbroken. I wonder at times when that little girl left and I became an adult. At what point in time did I become that girl that no longer wanted to play with dolls and ride my bike with friends. When did I start to think that dressing up and playing with barbies was childish and immature? When exactly did life become so difficult?

If I could pinpoint that moment in time, I would go back and hit the pause button. I would wake up early and play with my friends, I would break out the barbies and the dolls, I would run wild through the neighborhood without a care in the world. I would make Popsicles out of orange juice and catch lightning bugs, just one last time. Because on days like today those are the memories that we hold onto for dear life, those are the memories that keep us going through the hurt and the pain of being adults, those are the memories that we never want to let go of.

The past few weeks have been very difficult. They have included multiple counts of uncontrollable crying, many run- ins with annoying people, four or five counts of emotional eating, one count of uncontrollable spending, several counts of regretful Ex-texting, and one massive headache that just won’t go away.

In fact, I finally had to call my doctor to prescribe me something so that I could sleep at night. It has been a hell of a few weeks and I have often wished I could go back to the days of my youthful innocence. But yet again, I am reminded of the words my mom said to me many times growing up… “this too shall pass.”

My response to that today is… “oh yeah, when?”

You see, I have gotten myself into a little…ahem…predicament as of late that I knew I would regret in the long run, but I just couldn’t help myself. I tend to be an “instant gratification” kind of girl and this behavior has gotten me into trouble on more than one occasion. Especially when dealing with matters of the heart.

I’m not proud of my behavior or my actions, but what is done is done…Now I just have to figure out how to move on.

You see, I have made yet another bad decision, that I thought I could handle, only to get myself hurt in the long run. And that bad decision was reconnecting with someone from my past when I knew deep down in my heart that it would lead to nowhere…fast!

The moment he first indicated an attraction was awesome! There was excitement, I had butterflies. I was thrilled. It was a moment I had dreamed about for a long long time. Then there was the connection and the control, it was like a ball rolling down a hill, it just kept moving faster and faster. I reached out, I grabbed the opportunity. I was in it for the fun. But the fun ended when someone got hurt. I got hurt. He doesn’t know how hurt I am. I won’t ever tell him because I thought I was in control. Clearly, I wasn’t. I feel so stupid, yet again. I feel so ugly, yet again. I feel so hurt, yet again. And he will never know, yet again.

Back to square one, yet again!

CAUTION: Hungry dieter, may bite if provoked

So yesterday I went to my annual “girly girly” exam with my OB/GYN. I know..already you’re thinking “to much information”, but you know me, I have to share!

While I hate the actual exam part, I absolutely love my doctor. He has a dry witty sense of humor that I adore. His bedside manor is very comforting and most importantly he genuinely recognizes me and can carry on a conversation with me about my family without first referring to my chart. These are three things that are “deal breakers” in my so called doctor/patient “relationship.”

I never look forward to this annual exam of sorts, seriously, men..you will never understand it! You will never understand the annual poking, prodding and scraping that comes with this particular encounter. The contraptions, gels, and thing a ma jigs that are used can be a little, well, intimidating to say the least. But those things aside, the doctor/patient relationship is good and I usually leave this annual appointment with a smile on my face.

Well, except for yesterday!

Yesterday was not a good one to start off with. Work was hectic and I struggled to get out of the office to get to the appointment. It never fails, no matter how hard I try, I cannot leave during the day for an appointment without feeling the guilt from my coworker, whether she is in the office or not. So, for the first time ever, I turned my phone off the moment I pulled into the parking lot. Mental note: never do that again. By the time I got back in the car, I had two voice mails and a text from my boss and ten emails…I was out of the office for 30 minutes, people! But I digress…

Anywho…as most of you know the first thing they do when you go to the doctor is weigh you. I have to be honest, this part, never makes me happy. And this time, I was down right shocked at the number I saw on the scale. I knew I had put on a couple of pounds in the last 15 months…but never was I prepared for what I saw. That, my friends, was WAKE UP CALL #1

I was shuffled back into an examining room where I was asked to undress and put on the standard issued gown, opening in the front. The first thing that caught me off guard was the addition of mirrors all over the examining room. It didn’t matter which corner I was in I could see myself in a mirror. And the worst part…I felt like I was undressing in front of a circus mirror, because what I saw looking back at me is not how I picture myself looking to the outside world. I WAS HORRIFIED!

This my friends, was WAKE UP CALL #2

And then I walked over and put on the standard issued gown, or what I like to call “tissue paper overlay” and was horrified by how it fit. Suddenly I felt like this…



…you know the “Fat guy in a little coat” ala, Tommy Boy. (one of the funniest Chris Farley movies ever) But as funny as that may have seemed, no woman ever wants to feel like the fat girl! That my friends was WAKE UP CALL #3.

And if three wake up calls wasn’t enough, the fourth was the kicker.

It was when my doctor said (in a very loving tone) if you were only a ½ inch taller, you would be the perfect weight…

…wha…wha…wha!

Obviously, the diet started today!

B. U. S. T. E. D

Pet Peeves…we all have them! The worst part about having pet peeves is that they never go away. In fact, I find that my list gets longer and longer with each passing day. Most of them I try to ignore, but there are some that are just so overly annoying that they are virtually impossible to ignore.

You know…things like drivers that don’t use turn signals, people who tease animals through a fence, couples who sit on the same side of the booth when there is no one on the other side, people who prolong meetings by asking the most inane questions, people who chat online while I am on the phone with them, celebrities who claim to be environmentalists and then take nothing but 1st class transportation when they travel, greeting cards that include sparkles, sequins or confetti, the naming of celebrity couples (Bennifer, Branjelina, TomKate), skinny jeans on men, people who salt their food before tasting it first, people who dress their pets, people who are always late, websites with horizontal scrolling, unanswered texts and emails, parents who keep their kids on leashes and let their dogs run free, air guitar, dull pencils…and on and on and on.

But nothing, and I mean nothing annoys me more than this…



Well, ok…maybe a half full laundry basket of dirty, stinky “little boy” laundry isn’t as annoying as this…



OK, a pair of dirty jeans on the floor is definitately annoying, but nothing beats this…



I kid you not, that pair of dirty jeans is 2 ½ feet away from the laundry basket. I have just one word for my level of annoyance…

….UGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!

Seriously, sometimes I feel like I am raising cavemen.

I often wonder what it would take to walk 2 ½ more feet closer to the laundry basket to make sure the dirty clothes get to the proper place. I also wonder what comes to their mind when they miss putting the laundry in the laundry basket. Seriously how hard can it be to make sure it gets to the proper place? It’s not like the laundry basket for the jeans is in the other room…oh no, it all goes to the same basket.

This “pet peeve” of mine is bugging me so much so that I just took a break from writing this post to talk to Hamilton and Gibson about how much this annoys me. I asked if they had an excuse for not getting the laundry in the basket and they both replied with a shoulder shrug and an “I don’t know.” And because I am in such a mood tonight I actually made them take their baskets downstairs and sort their laundry into appropriate piles.

They currently think I am the meanest mom in the world.

However, I suddenly feel like I may be over reacting a bit.

No, no, it’s not guilt, nope that’s not it at all.

It may have a little something to do with this



Yep folks…as you have probably already guessed, this is a picture that Hamilton just took of my closet as a subtle reminder to me of where they get their stellar ability to get the laundry into the laundry basket.

I guess it takes a cavewoman to raise cavemen…

This day is bananas, B. A. N. A. N. A. S

Spring has finally sprung here in the midwest!

Yippee Skippy!

It’s this time of year that I tend to spend a lot of time taking stock of the “stuff” in my house. If your house is anything like mine, it is filled with things that you can’t seem to live without. It's filled with things I have spent my entire life carefully picking and gathering together, so that now, in the full radiance of middle age, I can spend my spare time trying to create a clear path to move from one room to the next without tripping over something and breaking a leg.

While cleaning out the linen closet this past weekend I started to relate this thing we call “Spring Cleaning” not only to my house but to my life as well. And when I started thinking of it in these terms my mind was immediately cluttered with things that I need less of in my life in order to make room for the things I need more of.

In fact, isn’t that what Spring Cleaning is all about? Out with the old, in with the new?

So here it is, for your reading enjoyment, I give you the “clutter” in my life that I need to clear away…

Guilt trips, dirty dishes, self critique, bad news, obligations, carbohydrates, buzz words, pants that don’t fit, monthly payments, clutter, cable TV, lattes, extra calories, newspapers and magazines, healthcare talk, the 40 hour work week, impulsive spending, junk food, being micromanaged, seeing Lady Gaga in the media, Ed Hardy fashion, the revival of the worst trends from the 80’s (ala Katie Holmes and the rolled jeans), coverage of celebrity marriage infidelity, crocs and constant updates on the Kardashian family.

…in order to make room for the things in my life that I need more of…

Discipline, weekends, warm days, emergency contacts, perfect albums, motivation, leafy greens, sleep, love, PDA, window shopping, bells and whistles, privacy (two boys under the age of 9 often makes it tough to get quality bathroom time by myself without, of course hearing, mooooommmmmmmm!), prepared food, gifts, sweet notes, compliments, fancy dates (ok, who am I kidding, dates in general), SEX, exercise, wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, faith, and time to pursue my passion of writing.

This, my friends, was a weekend spring cleaning of the home, the heart and the habit…for the first time in a long time, I feel just like myself again.

Hello Spring!