The Cruel Joke Our Mothers Played...or..as I like to call it...'The Defecation of Smug

WARNING: GROSS FACTOR

Yeah... You read that correctly. Defecation... I'm going to discuss something that...while gross... Is incredibly necessary for any females of the child bearing years. SSShhhhh..... There is a secret that our mothers kept from us... No one... Not even doctors.... tell you what labor will be like...or worse ...what happens afterward.  Like a cat about to be thrown onto the shower, they keep the secret so we don't claw and bite people....Call me a whistle blower, but I feel you should go into things prepared.... I'm about to sing like a canary.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS:

Maybe you've been having those cramps... Perhaps your water broke... It is possible that you see a big red piece of what looks like uterus floating in your bathtub, but you know that "It's time"...and you head for the hospital... When you get there, They give you an IV and then kick everyone out of the room, so they they can insert a needle resembling a subway sandwich into your spine..."Just relax", they said....
The pain has become irritating, but you can handle it..after 3 hours, it's uncomfortable.but you figure you're almost done...What's the big deal anyway?.. dilated to 3...3! It was 3 when I came in here! She then informs you that they will have to give you a drug that will make this move along...
Once they give that to you, the pain goes up...way up... I can only describe labor pains one way. Have you ever had to poop SO BAD that you get these sharp, lightning like stabs across your lower stomach... It's like that... every minute or two.... for the duration... After a few more hours, the nurse comes in...sticks her hand up your hoohah..and says, 'It's progressing'... knowing that this  must be nearing a close, you make the mistake of asking,"How much longer do you think we'll be?" "Well," she says, "You are at 5...so it will probably be at least another 3 hours..."  At this point, you are very annoyed... How much worse could it get?

So fast forward 6 hours to the time when the contraction seismograph keeps drawing the Himalayas, and you a certain you have kidney stones...You are thirsty, but they will only give you ice chips...at this point, you will try to reason with the nurse that ice chips are just melting into water, and that you promise you won't tell... it will not work. Good news on the horizon, though, the nurse comes in, takes a tour of va-China, and tells you that its time to push...

THIS IS WHEN IT GETS INTERESTING!
You are exhausted by the abdominal undulations already, and now you have to work. The doctors come in and a gaggle of people who will all visibly stare at your lady bush for the next hour or two. They tell you to push. If this is your first child, you'll do it wrong, at first, because doing it right means crapping on the bed...yep... to push is to poop out your child...You will question your own anatomy..." I thought these were different holes?!" They are, but they share the same muscles...sorry...and you will poop every push until you have nothing left... (We'll come back to the effects of this) If you had an epidural, people will need to hold up your legs...and if you aren't small, you will worry about how much your thighs weigh...the Richter scale of birthing now doesn't have any downtime, and when it crests the top, it flatlines because the contractions are completely off the radar. it's at this point you will try to throw up into a bedpan, but, other than bile, you won't get much because they wouldn't give you anything but ICE CHIPS! Finally, out comes a baby! YEAH! It is beautiful.... but you can't keep holding it...you aren't done! Wait....What?!
Oh, yes.... PUSH! they say... Again? No...I'm done.. nope. You have to pass the afterbirth... huh? you push... and you give birth to the bloodiest, most disgusting blob of ick imaginable...it's huge, and will likely splash a crimson wave all over the floor...

But the worst hasn't happened....
THIS is the secret! THIS is what no one tells you...
I would go through that a dozen times if I NEVER had to relive the post partum poo....
You truly emptied when you had your child...There was NOTHING left! A week goes by...You put food in, nothing comes out.... You feel it... It needs to happen... You are feeling labor pains again... what?! You go to the bathroom....nothing... They have you on stool softeners... oh well....See, you stretched out all of those muscles and now they don't work... eventually, though, it's gonna happen... You run to the bathroom. You sit. You stand. You hang on to the walls. Now you are in a full sweat. You stand. You pee down your legs..which are shaking uncontrollably. Where is your lamaze coach? You gag. You become concerned that crap can actually come out the wrong end. Then nature takes over, and you go. Painfully. Quickly. It burns. When you regain consciousness on the bathroom floor, you realize that this needed warning. Why did they let you out of the hospital? No one told you about this....THE WORST PART of childbirth..... Maybe you won't tell anyone either. I, for one, am planning on regaling this story to my daughter...as birth control.

Independence Day, That Old Time Rock-n-Roll, and the Fact That I'm Too Old to Party...

Tonight there will be fireworks lighting up the night sky... Showering multi-colored brilliance down on our still semi-free land... It will be a scene straight out of Fantasia.... For those with kids, it's the part where the magic is out of control, and the mops and brooms go insane and start killing people... "Don't point the sparkler at people.." "Stay back!" .."You've had enough watermelon; You'll pee all night long!" ..."Don't eat THAT watermelon...It's the 'special' watermelon!" "STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!" "It's dark out...Do you know where you're children are?"

I'm totally ready for this to happen : /

Top that with having a wonderful, albeit, very late night last night. The combining of old and new friends...and it WASN'T awkward... We played  RoCkBaNd!!! We fell into the nintendo wormhole and fell out of it about 4am. 4 o'clock in the morning! I can't tuck my children into bed at 10 without falling asleep...The only explanation: Time Vortex. I haven't done that in almost...a long time. However, with children, I cannot sleep in...I am awake...Mostly because, in our infinite wisdom, we forgot to put away the drums last night, and I was awakened by the sounds of the Ghostbusters' theme song being cranked to 11. It was a great song choice...

It has been proven that sleep has a deficit. You can accumulate lack of sleep.. Here is my theory. When I was a senior in high school, I worked 20 hours a week, did three plays at once, and had 6 classes a day. I also maintained a healthy social life between the hours of midnight (when I left dinner theater practice) and 6:30am ( when I began the carpool to pick up my friends for school). Needless to say, I believe that my sleep deprivation began here. Then I worked full time and went to college full time and sang in a very busy jazz group. More lack of sleep.. Then I got married, had kids...The amount of sleep you lose as a parent is calculable only with the machine they use to keep track of the national debt. I think our parents and grandparents fall asleep in their chairs because...at some point... their bodies force them to make good on that debt. Body, "Okay... I'll loan you 10 years of half nights where you can stay awake....But if you don't pay me back, I'll take it out of your kneecaps and prime time television."

Circling back to last night...I'm exhausted. I have to wonder whether the loan shark of sleep will attempt to collect before fireworks... Maybe I'll get a nap... Maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt.... We'll see...

The Last Time I Tried Yoga, My White Legs Landed a Plane

It's summer... It hot and here, in the south, It's the land of swimming and boats and naked people at Walmart. When I live in Pensacola, I had to eat at Hooters to see girls with clothes on... I'm not a small girl... This is no secret...I am also part albino cheetah. To say that I am of northern European descent is putting it mildly. I am freckly.. and I DO NOT tan. (not..I am morally against tanning...I have tried...I went to the tanning beds every day for 6 months... I started  to look like a topographical map.)so... Wearing daisy dukes and tube tops isn't exactly cresting my wardrobe choices. There are days, even, when I put on shorts..take one look at my giant white legs.. and take them right back off again... I don't have a thigh gap...My thighs might even be Siamese twins... But then I step out into the blistering 100*f heat and 400% humidity...immediately giving me a white girl afro and boob sweat... and I march back inside and don my shorts... Here is why you should also:

1. I'm not trying to put the WHO in Whore. The World Health Organization may be trying to reach everyone on the planet with food and medicine, but I'm not trying to sleep with everyone I meet. I'm married. I'm not trying to impress anyone I will meet except my husband. This is a very liberating thought because  it is my husband who complimented me when I bought the shorts. He has good taste...He chose me, didn't he?

2. You aren't that special. Okay...you are...but not when it comes  to how you look in your shorts. When we pick out clothes, we tend to develop acute egocentrism. Suddenly, the whole world cares about every detail of what we look like. I do this, too, but we shouldn't. Outside of being staggeringly under-dressed (or wearing chevron), We don't actually attract much negative attention...However, certain clothes might always attract positive attention..(eg..My girl jersey ninja turtles tee...oh yeah.)...Move those to the front of the line, please... You are worth compliments.

3. Be a rebel without a clue.  All of we who are self conscious have trained ourselves to watch for the signals of disapproval. I'm not saying that it will be easy, but UN-train yourself to focus on what other people think. Why do you care?! Who are they to you?! Live by the wall street motto:  High risk yields high reward! Take chances with your wardrobe... An example: I have always been an hourglass...Granted, my body holds more sand than most... so, even though I have a waist, I have big upper arms and big  thighs. There is a shirt that is a toga style...you know, one sleeve... I have had in my closet for years...I loved it, but was never brave enough to wear it. One day, I was so depressed that I forced  myself to not care what anybody thought. I wore that shirt. HoLy BaLls! People went crazy! "I love that shirt!" "That looks amazing on you!" "Have you lost weight?" high risk=High reward.

Life is short. Too short to worry about what you wear.. Worry about who you are. The mark you leave on this world rests only in the memories that others will have of you. A great man (Albus Dumbledore) once said,"It is the choices we make that dictate who we become." Choose not to care about things as frivolous as thigh jiggle.  Be excellent.

Be sure to Eat Your Indian

Well, I was blessed this evening with house guests. My oldest friend allowed me to cook for her. I have been bragging about our recent adventures in traditional Indian cuisine, so I decided to make some for dinner. The meal went as follows:

"That smells amazing!" she said, as it was cooking in the pan...

10 minutes later, she took her first bite...

"Holy shnikeys, that's hot!" she said...and had some wine...

2 minutes after that: "I can't really breathe...Are my lips supposed to tingle?"and had more wine...

and 2 minutes following that:"Oh no! It is in my stomach.." "I just swallowed a bomb!" and then she had more wine....

The good news is that she has forgiven me... The bad news...according to her...is that if she has to have artificial intestines because hers are now holier than Rome...I am buying... also...She might unforgive me later in the restroom...I told her to wipe with a snowcone...Here are some reasons why she should thank me:

1. Indian people are healthy. The spices that make Indian food hot (and delicious) have been proven to help prevent and cure cancer. Particularly turmeric, cayenne, ginger, fennel, saffron, and cinnamon. 

2. Culture is good! As Americans, we tend to be both spoiled and deprived of a world view of food. American food is manufactured bland..even the beef tastes very different when raised on feedlots compared to 100% grassfed cow. 

3. Everything's better with wine.  She had about half a bottle and declared that my food, while dangerous, was delicious...

I am an adventurous chef... I don't mind burning my face off, either... Maybe I should have started with a  korma...

Housework... Or As I Know It: My Personal Hell

I hate housework, people. It seems, too, that the more housework I'm require to do, the angrier I get. If I go insane one day and kill someone, you can bet housework cocked that pistol. Picture it:  It's 10 minutes until people are expected  to be over...I'm attempting to flight of the bumblebee the living room...There's a knock at the door...I snap...Poor Jehovah's Witness never saw it coming... My children now recognize the signs mom is getting close to a melt down.. I can hear them talking, "No..It's okay...She's just loading the dishwasher...wait... Is that the vaccuum?! We better run!"

This isn't something I'm proud of. How I wish that I were one of the many personality types that got gratification out of cleaning. My husband gets personal satisfaction from helping to provide basic needs. My personal satisfaction comes from being appreciated... Which housework isn't the best helper in that.. Usually people say nothing..unless you didn't do it. Side note:  If you want to become more "self aware" google the meyers briggs jung personality sorter and take the free test. It's what psychologists agree is THE personality test.It will give you four letters.. for example: I am an ENFP... Also...once you've done that, go to "portrait of an _ _ _ _." and learn all about you!

I have found that housework is an inevitable part of life. After you use all the dishes, It starts to get expensive to replace them. I tried using only paper plates for a while... It was less  than classy.
I hear the faint whispers of  'clean me' from the kitchen...I suppose I'll go do it.. But know, I'd rather stay here and talk to you happy, peppy people.

Beauty Is In the Eye of the Beerholder

I think it's high time that guys in my generation (and the ones immediately following) realize that a bar may not be best place to pick up women. It's no secret that most of my friends are guys.... I like guys... As girly as I am, I drink beer, tell dirty jokes, and I think farts are hilarious. I can out-guy most guys I know! On the one hand, It hurts my heart to hear "my boys" wail about how they can't find any decent girls, that all the good girls are taken, and that girls care too much about money and looks. On the flip side, I'm like, "what?!" ...Because most single girls I know are sweet and funny and just as achingly desperate to meet a worthwhile guy. Then it hits me like a bug on a windshield...They are going to bars! I am fully aware that there are very few outlets for meeting people after high school/ college. I'm not saying that I never go to a bar...I do improv in a bar... But I'm busy there... Most lovely ladies I know only go to a bar in a gaggle...and it's often either a girls' night or a friends' gathering or some function (like my group's show!) Not that there aren't nice women in a bar, but bad decisions are imminent..and most smart women try to avoid them..so unless she has a social "thing", she is probably at home in her pjs, drowning her sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry's.. Here I have compiled a list of BETTER places to meet a fine upstanding girl..a keeper... and for goodness sake, boys, if you aren't doing any of this..pay attention to the following:

1. Don't discount friends... The most obvious vein of options may lie in the friend system. Have lovely girl friends? Ask them if they know any single girls... (DO NOT ask a single girl this question if you value your man parts)Girls of similar personality and value systems tend to flock together. If your friend is "would be" dating material, her friends probably are, too.

2. Thank God for the Ladies...at church. This is probably only a good idea if you are a religious person yourself, but even if you aren't, perhaps a friend is. Are they having a function? Many churches have activities that aren't overly "churchy"... just make sure you know what these people believe before you go. Sometimes that's a deal breaker.

3. Show her your bookworm!  The local library almost always has a series of book clubs. If you like to read, Go join a group...You already have something in common with every girl there.

4. I like to call it "Caffeindating" Practically everyone who is over 18 drinks starbucks... and this shows guys two things immediately. First it shows that she is human and has good taste. Second, it proves she is successful because otherwise who can afford it.

5. So..You think you can dance?  If you can, why are you single? If you can't, it's time to learn. Most girls love to dance, and any guy that can walk up to a woman sitting in a dance club and ask her to dance already has the tools to win hearts. Side note, if you can dance ballroom, your dance card will always stay full.

I'm letting you in on a real girl secret here....Listen up!
 Ready, Set, Get over yourself!  There is a vast, rarely tapped pool of female nerd princesses. They like cosplay (wink!)... They like sci fi... They like boys... If you think you are too cool for anything, wake up! You are single! Officially...not too cool... Dip your toe into the world of comicon. Try Star Trek. Star Wars. Dare I say it... Young adult novels... There are conventions.. There are meetings.. Midnight movie premiers... This is an awesome girl goldmine... And you might even have fun.... one caveat: She might just be smarter than you!
**I once had a male friend say to me, "I want a girl just like you...that looks like Lindsay Lohan! (pre crack monkey).. I promptly told him that Girls that look like that don't end up with personalities like mine. That isn't necessarily true, but this is the principle. If you are looking for the perfect girl..she doesn't exist. However, if you are willing to get out of your own way... You might find the perfect girl for you.

Of All the Crafts I Love, I Make a Mess the Most

I have ADCD ...Attention Deficit Crafting Disorder... Honestly, I am a jack of all trades (master of none...). I love to paint!!! I tried  to sell my paintings once.. I crochet...poorly...I'm self taught, and I can make many things... as long as it's a flat square or rectangle..ooh! I also use a knitting loom... I did make an amazingly long nerd scarf with it...I decoupage... I do great work with comic books....

Other than some really impressively decent birthday gifts, I haven't made much... Except a mess! The two things that clutter my existence are books and craft supplies... I have no where to put them...DIYs are like my crack.... My latest crazy fad is spray paint art... It's awesome... Space scenes in 5 minutes with just a little skill... My husband just adores my mess (sarcasm)..."Why do you have a stack of old printer cartridges?" he said. I replied, "They will be a cartridge family! Maybe they'd sing!"

Printer ink is SO expensive! Between homeschooling (and my torrid affair with screen printing tees), I am seriously considering investing in squid as a commodity. Now if I can just figure out how to fit them into those cartridges...

SEE?! This is why the inside of my brain looks like a splatter painted tee shirt from 1991! I have nowhere to store this stuff. I'm totally addicted, and Michael's is my drug dealer. My kids are starting to show symptoms. They have a rubber band loom. I need to get it under control... Glitter is the herpes of the crafting world, and I've given it to my house...This is how disease spreads.. Do they make a pill for that? 

Seriously, though, I am writing this post to ask: Would you all like to see some crafting tutorials mixed into my insanity? Just comment below and let me know...what would you like to see?