Feelings, Nothing More than.....oh, Whatever....

Holy Moly, what an emotional week.

I would suggest not moving while PMS-ing.  It would probably be way easier.  It would most likely eliminate the overwhelming desire to ram your vehicle into the vehicle in front of you over and over and over.  And then backing up into the one behind you a time or two and then laughing as you speed away.  To be clear, I did not do this, not even once, but I really, really had to talk myself out of it.  More than once. 

I was all *smarty pants* about labelling the boxes and stuff...but you know after a while, you just get fed up with packing and labelling and making sure you've taped the box correctly, and you just start throwing things in boxes and slapping tape everywhere, thinking, "Oh, I'll totally remember what's in this one."  And then you realize you've got a trabillion boxes that all look the same.  Then, it's 11pm in the new house and you're going through every single effing box trying to find a tampon.  Just one.  But no, you couldn't be bothered to label that box.  You couldn't even be bothered to have packed the tampons with other bathroom things, because that would have been way too simple.  I'm half tempted to just keep everything in boxes and buy new.  Budget be damned.  Next time I move, I'm hiring a moving company, a cleaning crew, going on a cruise and returning when it's over.  Of course, moving is stressful but that was really just one tiny part of an all round emotional week.

For instance, I got really emotional when I went to pick up my son from his father's with a few boxes in the back seat that Q had to rest his feet on.  I guess my ex is trying to win the father of the year award, because he totally freaked out that I was putting my child in an unsafe situation.  I'm not sure if he was more concerned that Q would get a paper cut or a muscle cramp but the man made me take all the boxes out of the car in the pouring rain and repack them.  Oh I was furious.  Livid.  First of all, suggesting that I would put my son in a situation that would compromise his well being totally set me off, but to suggest it in front of my son, well...I saw red.  Nothing is more important to me than my son's safety, but just as important is my son's confidence that he is safe in my care.  I am happy to report that we got the whole way home without one paper cut, so woot woot for me, right?

Also emotional - a sad story that I'm sure happens much too often, hitting much too close to home.  Before the spring break, Q brought home a letter from the principle saying that a family in his school had been in a horrific car accident that had taken the life of the mother, injured the father, and both daughters were fighting for their lives.  This in itself was horrible, but really they were words on a page.  This past Tuesday, the two little girls - one in kindergarten, one in grade 2 - returned to school, both in wheel chairs.  Their father escorting them on crutches.  It just absolutely broke my heart.  I just wanted to scoop the whole family up and give them a great big hug.  It brought home how fragile we all are, and just how finite life really is.

Third emotional wreck moment was the Royal Wedding.  I know lots of people who think it's ridiculous - all the pomp and circumstance over two people getting married, but I disagree.  First of all, what little girl hasn't dreamed of growing up and marrying a Prince?  So when Princess Catherine married Prince William, really a little part of all us *little girls* were standing up there right along with her.  Secondly, my heart just broke that Princess Diana wasn't there to see her Wills all grown up.  I really do think she'd be proud of the man he's become, and he really truly looks as though he's madly in love with his bride.  We all remember, I'm sure, the sullen little boys following their mother's casket and to see them grown and happy and handsome really just made a mother's heart happy. 

Living in the uber-multicultural Canada, it's so fascinating to see so many different cultures and all the traditions that are represented.  Watching the Royal Wedding made me feel part of a culture rich with history and tradition of its own, and there's nothing wrong with that (I am half brit, ya know).  I still remember where I was when Princess Di married Prince Charles (in a motel on a family vacation on our way *back home* to Ontario) and getting goose bumps when she walked down the aisle.  I was only four.  That's probably one of my first memories. 

So, an emotional wreck kind of a week.  I've been blessed with a little boy who is growing way to fast, whom I love so, so much.  Sometimes I feel like my heart might burst with love for him.  I said to him the other day (as I always do...)

Me: Do you know how much I love you?

Q usually responds, "How much, Mommy?"  and I say, "More than you'll ever know" but this day, he said

Q:  Ya...

Me: How much?

Q:  Too much...

Ah...you say tomato, I say tomatoe...

Six Months (Smoke Free)

Yes, you read correctly.  Six months smoke free. 

This has been a long, long two year journey.  See *Here* and *Here* if you don't believe me.  Did I say it was long?  It was.  It was horribly long.  It was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do in my whole entire life.  Over the course of the past ten years I have tried millions of different ways to quit.  I have tried the patch (made my arm ache and tingle), gum (tastes horrible), inhaler (gross), acupuncture (worked while it was in), a web site support group (depressing....) and I even tried cold turkey 4 separate times. 

Looks like fifth time's a charm. 

So, what's my key to success you ask?   Well, I thought you'd never...

• Will Power - Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha.  I know, right?  Me and will power mix like oil and water.  But, it took gobs and gobs of will power to not just give in, drive to the nearest gas station and buy a pack of smokes.  How doyou fight that?  You think about that first drag from that first smoke of the morning, and how it makes you dizzy and light headed and not very pleasant.  You think about your son - wanting to see him graduate from high school, university, get married, have children of his own.  Those were two things that got me through.
• Eat - Whether you want to or not, you WILL gain weight.  So, you might as well just go with it and accept it.  Co-incidentally, the more you deny it (or yourself), the more you will eat and the more weight you will gain.  In total, I've gained 30lbs.  But that's over two years of starting and stopping, starting and stopping.  That's also two years of closet eating.  This time around, I stopped the chocolate and started the baby carrots, snap peas and almonds. 
• Drink - No, not alcohol (although, being un-sober for six months might be one way to get through it....okay, okay, maybe not...) The experts say water, but water makes me gag so I found that tea (green tea was probably the best, with just a touch of honey) and coffee helped me.  Instead of a morning smoke, I would have a morning coffee, the hotter, the better, too.  It soothes, it comforts.  Instead of an evening smoke, a cup of green tea. 
• Talk about it - I think everyone is sick of hearing about how long I've been smoke free.  I tell everyone on every single anniversary.  I tell strangers, I tell coworkers, I tell family members.  It keeps me accountable and it makes me feel proud of myself, so I don't care if you're sick of hearing it.  However, you'll also find allies - fellow non smokers who also celebrate every single anniversary, even it's five years along.  Remember, once a smoker - always a smoker.
• Change your environment, change your routine - I think that moving to a job where none of my coworkers smoke was huge in contributing to my success.  It eliminated that extra peer/self pressure and longing to belong.  It took away the social aspect and made it a solitary, alienating habit.
• Separate yourself from the mind games - The first few times I quit, it was an emotional journey.  I was mourning the loss of a friend and I allowed myself to get sucked into the grief.  If you separate yourself from that grief and don't give your addiction a *personality* it is so, so much easier.  Instead of missing your cigarette, think of missing the ability to breath on your own and requiring an O2 bottle 24/7.
• Give yourself a treat - Or two.  Or three.  For the first six months, think "I deserve this" because you absolutely do.  Whatever *this* might be...a new pair of shoes, a purse, a ring.  Splurge on yourself. 
• YOU CANNOT JUST HAVE *ONE* - It's true.  Don't think you can.  One leads to two, and two leads to a pack, and once you've bought another pack, you're a full fledged smoker, honey.  Yes, yes you are. 

Don't get me wrong, six months later, I still think of having a smoke every single day.  No joke.  But after 6 months, it'll burn my lungs and make me want to puke.  I keep telling myself that.  My weight gain has plateaued, I hope, and now I add a little bit more exercise, some healthy eating.  But you know what?  I can totally do it, because I am invincible.  I just quit smoking...I can do anything!

Okay, so what benefits are there, six months in?

• I have way more energy.  I cannot stress enough how much I notice this
• I'm not tired and yawning all the time
• My stress levels have decreased (and my mood is UP!!)  No more highs and lows
• My skin is healthier.  It looks pinker (instead of a dull grey), and my acne has calmed down
• My teeth and gums look healthier (my gums are pink again)
• My hair and clothes and skin don't smell anymore
• No more head aches.  Well, less headaches 
• My resting heart rate used to be 102 beats per minute, now it's 89

I don't notice that my sense of smell or taste is any better, but then again, I've gained 30lbs so maybe it all does taste better and I just haven't noticed.

Have you quit smoking lately?  How'd you do it?  Geez, forget smoking...have you eliminated anything unhealthy in your life/routine and noticed a difference?  How'd you do it and why?

'Q'-isms

Once upon a time, when I was much younger and had no worries, my goal in life was to have all my bras and panties match.  I'm almost ashamed to admit it, really.  People in the world are hungry and I want to spend gobs of money on bra/pantie sets.  I'm even more ashamed to admit that, for a brief time, they did all match. 

Now that I am an adult, with the weight of the world on my shoulders (and the twins aren't as perky as they once were) I have boring bras and only buy new ones when the wire starts poking through the cotton.  Then I plod (well, maybe it's more of a traipse, or a swagger) on down to the nearest department store and buy a couple *on sale*.  I haven't shopped at La Senza or Victoria Secret for years because they just didn't fit right.  A girlfriend I had in High School used to joke that she couldn't shop there because all the bras were too big, and I couldn't shop there because all the bras were too small. 

But La Senza was having a sale, and I just can't resist a bargain.  I sceptically tried on one and I think they've changed their fits...it fit really, really nice.  It was so super comfortable too...I ended up buying three.  And I figured, if I was going to splurge, I might as well get a funky one...you know, just for me. 

I guess you're all wondering what this has to do with Q, right? 

Well, the other morning I was putting make up on in the bathroom and Q was watching me.  The night before, I must have taken my bra off and thrown it on the side of the bathtub.  Q noticed it, held it up with a look of utter disgust and said,

Q:  Do you think this is appropriate?

He was horrified that his mother would wear a blue/green leopard print bra.  Horrified.  In fact, I had to dig it out of the garbage can, he was that bothered by it.

Can you imagine what he would have thought if I hadn't talked myself out of the matching thong?!?!

That would have been inappropriate...

I'm gonna have to hide the neon pink one I bought :P

Momma Bear

Being a single mom to a young boy is a difficult thing to do on the best days.  As a super girly girl, I had to read up on all things dinosaur and shark and cars and snakes.  I'm practically an expert now that I have a 6 year old boy.  A Friday night is spent watching a hockey game instead of painting our toe nails pink.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change any of it for the world.  Being Q's momma is the most rewarding experience of my life.  But I know that I lack in certain areas for him.  I mean, I'm just a mom.  Q needs a mom and a dad, often times on the same day.  Last week, Q wanted to spend the whole week with his dad so they could watch the play off games together.  While totally brutal for me, I understood the need for the two of them to bond over *yuck* hockey.

I believe it's very important for a young boy to have strong male role models.  There is a beautiful phrase..."it is better to build a boy than to mend a boy."  And while Q's dad means well, he lacks a certain thing I like to call *common sense*.  Last week, he wanted to take Q to the doctors to get his lung capacity checked because Q couldn't keep up to him when they were playing.  I think we'd all agree that a grown man's lung capacity is probably a little bit bigger than that of a little boy, but whatever.  Evidently, it just meant I didn't care about my child. 

Me:  Does he wheeze?

Him: No

Me:  Does he have coughing attacks?

Him:  No

Me:  Does he cough at all

Him:  No

Me:  Is he snuffly?

Him:  No

Me:  .....

Him:  He can't keep up with me when we run.  It wouldn't hurt to get him tested.

Me:  Well, if we're going with that theory, we might as well test him for cancer, too...

Him:  No, that would be ridiculous.

Me: ....

Early on, I told my brother it was important that he was a role model for my son.  That it was important Q learned from him how to treat a woman with respect, because we all know he's not going to get any of that from his father.  I had visions of him taking Q on hikes and them talking about *guy* things.  I imagined they'd play hockey until the sun set.  I thought they'd build a bond that could never be broken.

Turns out, I pictured it all wrong.  My brother's vision is completely the opposite from mine.  They'll start wrestling and my brother will pin Q down so he can't get up and then he makes him beg to be released.  That's his vision of teaching my son how not to be a *pussy* (his words) and I'm raising a child who has no boundaries. 

Mess with a momma bear's cub and what do you think is going to happen?  Whether or not the cub provoked the messin'?  Ya, momma bear is going to attack.  That's exactly how I felt.  I want to protect my child from every thing I can.  I don't want to break his will, I want to build his will and his character with my words and my actions.  I don't want him to be fearful of the men in his life. 

Am I wrong?  Am I over reacting?  Do I need to release a little bit of the control?  Or can I be the protector of my child?

Perks

One of the fabulous things about my job...if not the *only* most fabulous thing about my job is that every year about this time we get a bonus.  A financial bonus.  Not a shabby one either.  Now, I'm being a good girl and saving the majority of it, but today I treated myself to a few little gems.  I figure I deserve it. 

Look. At. These. Shoes.  Aren't they fabulous?  I have no idea where I'm going to wear them, nor what I'm going to wear them with but it won't be the first time I've bought shoes first and then had to buy an outfit to match them.  Side note:  I often buy clothes thinking, "this would be cute for a date..."  This hasn't come through for me yet.  But I am totally prepared in the event any man ever loses his marbles and asks me out.  They are so super comfortable, too.  Retail for $90.00, and I got 'em for $60.00...so not only was I giving myself a little gift, I was also *bargain* shopping.  Two stars for me!!  Franco Sarta is, in my very humble opinion, the best shoe maker out there. 

Along the same lines, and yet so completely different...Stiletto mascara from Maybelline.  The marketing geniuses have struck once again.  They know that people like me cannot resist advertising like this.  I love stilettos, I love mascara...how could I not want to believe that my eye lashes will be as absolutely sexy and fabulous as stilettos?   It's cruel, really.  I didn't even stand a chance.  It does really look amazing, doesn't it?  I'll let you know if my eye lashes remind me of stilettos.  Or even better if a stranger stops me on the street and says, "Has anyone ever told you your eye lashes look like stilettos?"  That would be awesome.

Remember when I got my IPhone and said that I didn't need to buy books anymore because I could download them onto my phone and save a tree.  Well, I lied.  I cannot resist the lure of a brand new book.  I love the smell, the feel, everything.  It's been a long time since I've read a book (all the phone's fault, you know...)  But look, here is the new addition to the library.  It looks so good.  The trailer for the movie looks amazing.  I'm really loving Reese Witherspoon/Gwyneth Paltrow right now (have you seen Country Strong?  Gwyneth is incredible.)  And the book is about forbidden love between two people in the midst of a circus.  Why can't I think up stuff like that????  

I have the Real Simple app for my phone, and I follow them on Facebook (admittedly, a little bit stalkerish) but nothing (and I repeat, nothing!) is as wonderful as a tangible copy that you can touch.  Flipping through a new magazine is like a love story.  It starts out slow as you get to know one another, then you lose yourself in one story, and another.  Until suddenly, you realize you've lost a whole afternoon gazing into your love pages.  The pages become worn as the time goes by, and you know every inch of every page. 

Yes, I know.  I'm weird.  And this totally explains why I'm single.  Whatever.  If I have to wear my red shoes to the grocery store or to bed, I don't care.  I will. 

I will.

It would be really great if I was a "big deal"...well, if my blog was a big deal, you know?  I'd be lying if I said I didn't want millions of followers and comments on all my posts.  I really, really, really would love it if I could quit my job and blog full time.  I study other blogs in order to get an idea of what the people want.  And I have noticed one thing that all the popular, millions of followers blogs have. 

Content.

I know, right?  Sounds super simple.  What do I do?  I bitch about my day, talk about my shoes or my make up.  But there's no real content.  There are no "How To" tips or life changing (well, other than my life changing) events.  Other blogs have pictures and lists and directions and graphs.  As a result, I have decided that this post will be a content filled post.  What follows are my tips for...well...everything.  I hope you will find one or two helpful.

1.  Hairspray your eyebrows.  What?  They're hair too, right?  Why spend money on clear mascara when you can spritz some hairspray on your fingers and tap them on your eyebrows.  As a bonus, if you want to look super surprised all day, you can mould your eyebrows and they'll stay that way all. day. long.  I hear strippers all use hairspray on their hands...gives them a better hold on the pole.  That might be helpful too.

2.  Moving sucks.  I'm moving this month.  When packing, here's a super handy tip for organizing all the boxes.  Label them.  I know, super simple huh?  But I find that if you write on the box what is inside the box, it's really helpful when you're unpacking.  Another method is to number every room and then write that number on the box.  Then you give a diagram of the house to everyone helping that has the rooms labelled and numbered so that everyone knows what room the boxes go in.  Ohhhh, you could colour code them too.  Wouldn't that be so. much. fun?  It would really suck if you lost the diagram though. 

3.  Instead of wrapping your breakables in newspaper (gets your fingers dirty, kills a tree) wrap them in clothes.  Two birds, one stone.  Simple

4.  Set the coffee maker before you go to bed.  Badda boom badda bing, you've got fresh coffee first thing in the morning.  I don't know about you, but I am not a morning person.  Don't talk to me until I've had my first cuppa joe.

5.  Can't wait for your nails to dry?  When they're just tacky, but not super wet, run super freezing cold water over them for like 5 minutes.  Nail polish just can't resist.  You won't be able to feel your fingers, but whatever...do you really need feeling in your fingertips?  Not always...

6.  Q tips and diaper wipes are two of the best inventions ever.

Anyways.  Hope those are all really helpful tips for y'all.  I can't imagine you've ever used any of them before.  They're original.  Totally!

Are you laughing?

Any super obvious tips you'd like to add?  I'm sure I'll think of 10 or 12 more as soon I hit "Publish Post".  That's a useful tool for building readership in your blog, too.  Asking for reader input.

Is it working?

Three Things

Walking to my car after work today, my employee started up a little convo with me.  It's funny, because from day one she's been really very personal with all the questions, but we all know how much I love talking about me, so of course I don't mind.  I think she's in a funk. 

A marriage induced funk. 

You know the one.  The "I'm so not appreciated.  He doesn't love me.  I don't love him.  Look at him sitting there, like he doesn't know.  I remember when we used to be so in love.  He used to talk to me.  Now, nothing.  Nothing."  We've all been there, whether married or not.  Some of us choose to move on, others of us choose to work it out.  Someone somewhere said that the secret to their long, successful marriage was that neither one of them fell out of love at the same time.   Sometimes, no matter what, it just doesn't work.  For me, I was just way too angry to ever get that loving feeling back again.  Now, I look at him and feel nothing...except for the occasional pang of pity.

Anyways I think she's looking for permission to be miserable in her marriage.  I'm somewhat of a poster child for *single motherhood* in her eyes, I think.  Or maybe I'm just another woman to whom can she can relate.  Whatever the case may be, we began talking today and she asked me what I thought were the top three signs you're in love.

Well, I'm no expert and I'll never, ever claim to be (well...not on love anyways...) but this is how I will know that I am in love with someone and that they're in love with me....

1.  Respect - You respect their time, ideas, beliefs, thoughts, mind, heart, body.  

2.  Compromise - You are willing to compromise something that is important to the other person in order to make them happy.  You want them to be happy.  You want to take care of them.

3.  Companionship - You enjoy their company.  (Kinda a big deal, huh?)

Sure the butterflies are amazing.  Feeling like you're going to throw up with excitement every time you see them is fabulous.  But at the end of the day, feeling like you're about to barf is not a practical way to go through life.  Butterflies belong in places other than your stomach.  So when those things go away there has to be something left behind that matters.  Those three things matter to me more than anything else. 

I mean, ya...it would be cool if he's super funny, looks like Brad Pitt and has abs like David Beckham...   

I'm just sayin'...

Oh, oh, oh...and white teeth like that guy on American Idol right now.  That would be nice, too.

What are your 'Top 3'?  I'd really like to know, so don't be shy!!

Constructive vs. Destructive

It has been brought to my attention by a very reliable source that I'm a little *gasp* boring.  Actually, he might not be that reliable...he's my brother.  But he has said a few things lately that have made me introspective. 

The first thing he said was a few weeks ago when we were driving by our neighbour, Dick, and he waved.  I'm pretty sure his name isn't really Dick, but one day he came and knocked on our door (the nerve, right?) and asked us not to park on the street in front of his house, because then he couldn't park there.  The fact that he has a two car garage and driveway seems to have escaped him, but he is a man, and they don't usually get points for being *observant*.  But now look at me, I'm getting distracted.  Anyways, he kept saying, "I don't mean to be a dick about it..." and "It's not actually me...it's my wife"!!  Can you even believe it?  He throws his wife under the bus?  Unbelievable.  So, my brother waves to Dick, and I'm like, "Why did you just wave to Dick?  I go out of my way to ignore Dick, and you're waving?"  And my brother says...

"Well, that's why no one likes you [or maybe it was, 'why you have no friends...whatever] because you're just like that.  Maybe if you were a little friendlier, you'd have more friends [or more people will like you...]"  He goes on to tell me that I'm going to be a bitter old woman who's all alone. 

Uh....ouch.  But he was such a dick. 

Then he's trying to convince me to join some sort of group that gets me out of the house (I might have been complaining about being single forever and never getting out of the house, but I was looking for sympathy...not constructive criticism.  Geez.)  So he tells me to join this events and adventures.  It's a group of singles that go out and *do* things - like group kayaking or ice skating or karaoke.  It's just fun and no pressure and yeah, maybe if you're a loser.  I might as well go to a a support group - Hi, my name is C and I'm a single loser, let's go bungee jumping!  I have visions of you all holding onto a rope, so you don't get lost.  Or you all have the same t shirts that you have to wear during an 'outing' in case you get lost.  I bet the leader carries a bull horn and calls out to all the singletons.  How do you do something like that without feeling like you've sunk to the lowest of the low?

He made some comment last night about how exciting I was sitting on the couch on a Sunday night with my mother watching America's Funniest Home Videos.  What can I say?  That show is funny.

But, it's all made me think.  Am I a loser?  Will I be that bitter old woman who lives at the end of the street  that all the kids are afraid to ride their bikes by?  You know, the one with the cats?  The one they make movies about...how misunderstood she is...all she really wants is a friend...

Will that be me??????

It's comfortable, the life I live.  Sure it's not exciting.  But I'm up every morning at 5:45 (okay...the alarm goes off at 5:45...I'm usually up by 6:00.  Or 6:15.  Well, always by 6:20...)  I'm too tired to be exciting, too.  But part of the lure of working days was having evenings to do things.  Plus, I spend all day with people, I like quiet evenings.  And dicks should be treated like dicks, they're not worth my time.  I would rather hit my snooze button one more time than wave to a dick who lives down the street.  Does this mean that I need to be a little more forgiving? 

Lately my brother and I haven't really agreed on anything except for the gal he's dating, and even then we don't really see eye to eye because I think he should have married her like, last year....and he seems to think it might be better to have a job first.  Basically, we talk about the weather and anything else gets me all frustrated. 

Maybe I should do something exciting.  Maybe I should join a club or take a class or pick up a hobby.  Who knows...maybe I will start saying 'hi' to strangers and waving to dicks.  I'm going to look into this.  But I am not, I repeat not going to join a singles adventure group, okay?  Okay. 

Let Me Organize That...

I hate Martha Stewart.  But that's only because I'm not Martha Stewart.  If I were Martha Stewart, I would love Martha Stewart.  I probably wouldn't like the fact that I spent time behind bars for insider trading, and I would probably have a bit of guilt for being such a bitch...but everything would be organized, my sweaters would be folder perfectly for the summer season, and my child would have gourmet dinners every single night.  I hate that I'm not *that* person.  The person who has an organized junk drawer.  The person who has a place for her car keys, and puts them there.  The person who makes cupcakes that look like bunny rabbits.  The person who has her shoes in shoe boxes with pictures of the shoes on the shoe box.

I could go on forever.  I really could. 

Oh....like the person who has an all natural recipe for a face mask that makes her look ten years younger.  I once had a coworker who boiled a natural laxative, then steamed her face with it for 10 minutes every Saturday night and she looked fabulous.  Her skin was beautiful.

The problem is that it all takes so much work.  I would love to organize my closet by colour, style and season, but who has the time?  Who?  I used to.  Before I had a child and a full time job.  I swear I'd be a total Type A personality if i weren't just so tired all the time.  And lazy.  The truth hurts sometimes, and I am nothing if not truthful...I'm too lazy to be a Type A personality.  But I really, really, really wish I was one.

When Q was a baby, I went to a mom's group on Wednesday mornings.  They'd have special guests, tips on raising kids, and a craft...and after a while, I just stopped going because everyone was so....perfect.  They all had smiles, and manicures and mascara.  I had bags under my eyes, 20lbs extra, and no handy tricks for cleaning the oven.  I wanted to be like them so badly that it almost hurt. 

Anyways, there is no use in complaining about something unless you have some sort of solution or resolution or something, so ladies...here it is.  The most fabulous thing ever...

Did you read what it says?  It says that you can update your home, wardrobe and life for free.  And it's all in one little magazine.  It holds all the answers.  Did you know it was so simple?  It's real simple (sorry...bad joke.)

But it gets better.  Not only can you give your life a make over...you can also organize your life.  Again, they make it simple.  And so, so appealing.  This would be my dream job.  Writing for a magazine about organization.  I cannot imagine it getting any better than this...

Except that it is.  It is better.  Because we can do vacations simple too.  With flip flops, no less!  I love flip flops!!!  Love them!  I just bought a pair of wedge black sequined flip flops.  They're like walking on pillows.

Eeeeps!!  And weddings too?  Oh, it's almost too good to be true.  How's this for efficient and organized?  I'm going to have my whole wedding planned and *organized* before I even meet my husband!  I'll plan yours too, if you want!  I'll organize your closet and label your cupboards...

Okay, I got a little carried away there.  But this is exciting, people! 

Well, exciting for people like me...us...

Do you watch Hoarders, too?

Things that are Annoying me Today...

1.  (how is that for no preamble or anything) My ex totally not respecting my time.  At all.  That is so annoying because it just shows that he doesn't respect me.  It's okay to waste my time because it's inconsequential to him.  It doesn't matter to him.  MEN:  If any of you read this blog...consider this...When you are late, when you dilly dally around, this is what women hear:  "Hey hon, guess what, you don't matter."  Seriously...that's what you  might as well be saying.  Next time, remember that.  WOMEN:  You're welcome.  Again

2.  I never ever was going to be *that* mom who's kids had never been to McDonalds.  I love McDonalds and to be honest with you...I always knew that I was way too lazy to make dinner *every* single night.  Thursday nights when I pick up Q, we go to Mickey D's, we sit in the play area, he plays, I digest.  We're all happy.  Except for tonight...first of all, I have the *loud talker* mom.  You've all met a loud talker mom.  They're the ones who want everyone to know what a wonderful mom they are.  They're attentive, they're witty, they're loving, they're loud.  "Owen, do you have to poo-poo?"  and in the next breath "Don't forget to eat all your french fries, Darling."  I don't need to know the digestive cycle of other people's kids.  I have a six year old child who likes to *show* me the size of his number 2's.  That's enough for me, thanks.  Second is the inattentive mother...the one who's too busy talking on her phone, reading a book, or praying someone will kidnap her child while she's *not watching* them.  There were these two boys who decided to play war.  "I just shot you.  I shot you in the face.  You're dead"  Verbatim, that is.  Why/How does a child know that is even an option in this world?  It makes me sick.  Unfortunately, our date to Mickey D's was cut short tonight because I did not want my child playing war with two kids blowing each other's brains out.  The mother was oblivious to the violence oozing from her children.  It makes me sad, really.  I had to resist the urge to *supervise* the situation.

3.  Traffic.  I just have one thing to say about this...get out of my way.  That is all.  Thank you.  Oh.  No, no it's not.  One more thing.  Don't get in accidents, please!  Do you know how absolutely annoying it is when I'm in lane 2 of 6 and we all have to merge into one on a bridge because you've clogged up two lanes with your four car pile up.  And tell me, what four car pile up is complete without 3 police cars, a tow truck and an ambulance?  Exactly. 

4.  This headache behind my left eye that I've had forever.  I wonder if it's a tumour.  I also wonder if it's a headache or an eye ache and how do you tell the difference?

5.  Renting a house that's for sale.  If you're considering this, I would seriously caution you against it.  It is a pain in the cheeks.  Not only do you have to keep the house clean All. The. Time, but you also have to leave the house at the drop of a hat so someone can come look at it.  I cannot wait til this month is over and we are in our new home.  I've had it up to here.

6.  Being a female player in a male dominated game/industry.  I get that men who have small *ahem* brains seem to have this overwhelming need to prove themselves in other ways.  Thing is, they're not smart enough.  Try blaming me for your inadequacies, and you'll realize how inadequate you really, truly are.  Thing is, so will everyone else.  And I'll do it in the most pleasant way possible, so you'll find it so difficult to hate me...especially because you're not quite sure if I was really smart enough to pull off what I just pulled off.  Jerk.

7.  Married men who don't wear wedding rings.  Just in case you guys didn't know this...it's a sign for us single women.  So put your friggin ring on.  Thanks.

8.  Elections and the mud slinging that ensues.  Can't we win an election by telling everyone how fabulous we are instead of because we told everyone how horrible they are?  And 4 elections in 7 years?  I haven't changed my mind, okay?  If you want to know, I'm MORE conservative than the conservative government.  Isn't that insane?  I had absolutely no idea. 

And no, I'm not PMS-ing.  I'm just having an angry rant.  Hmmmm, who knew happy people could have bad days.  You know what else makes me mad?  When you're having a perfectly fabulous day and someone comes along and dumps on you.  Hope that hasn't happened to you.

'Q'-isms

When Q was much younger (oh, he is growing so, so fast) he would say that he wanted to marry me.  He would say I was his girlfriend.  He hasn't said either in a while.  And you know, a girl needs reassurance, right?  So I asked the other night when we were watching "Dancing With the Stars".  He casually asked where Lacey Schwimmer was.  I thought this was odd, seeing as how he's uh...well...six.  What six year old boy avidly follows "Dancing with the Stars", let alone knows all the players?  I figured out it was because he thought she was pretty.  After assuring him it's okay for him to like girls and think they're pretty, I dropped the question...

Me:  Remember when you wanted to marry Mommy?

Q:  Ya

Me:  Do you still want to marry Mommy?

Q:  I don't know

Me:  What?  You don't know?  What don't you know?

Q:  Well....

Me:  Well what?

Q:  You might be ugly...