boobs.

I read somewhere that women who have breast implants are 5 times more likely to commit suicide than women without breast implants. I say to myself, I says..."What a waste of a nice set of boobs." Can they recycle those?

Balance

It's August again. It's looking like the end of summer (though my husband is trying in desperate futility to fight it) the sun is going down a bit earlier, the days are steadily getting cooler, and it's time to start thinking about wearing a jacket in the evening. Before we know it, the leaves will change again and a winter will be upon us. After that, a fresh new spring and then it will be summer again. It all works out, the end of one sparks the beginning of the next and so on...

(Gee thanks for the science lesson on the seasons Captain Obvious)

The end of seasons are bittersweet. I enjoy the transition of fall, but I can't help but feel a looming sadness for the end of another summer because it means my children are growing up. If you are a parent you must understand that there is a delicate balance to raising children. I believe if you are raising your children correctly, your goal is to have them eventually be independent, yet still need you...but not too much. I try to mix the motherly advice with chicanery and tomfoolery just to keep things even. I have three brilliant children who are all growing up too quickly, it's a lot like the end of summer and beginning of fall. I am trying to fight it, but they are staying up a bit later, growing a bit taller, and they don't want me to hand them a jacket as they walk out the door...it's not cool. Before I know it, they will be another grade level higher in school, they will continue to grow up...and then another year will have gone by and they will be one year closer to graduation. Being one year closer to graduation of course means needing less of their mom, and a growing intolerance of my goofy ass. I guess at some point I should probably look into growing up too...I hear it's nice.

I worry senselessly about so many things and as I told my sweet father-in-law after his diagnosis with cancer before we lost him nearly two years ago...(miss you Pop...) "Worrying is like rocking in a rocking chair...it will keep you busy, but you won't get anywhere." Ever notice how easy it is to give advice, but so hard to actually take it? I also drew a picture of boobs on the dry erase board in his hospital room. See?? Balance.

This is just another transition and we will survive it. I will create new wonderful memories with my growing children and still show them how to be independent, but I will remain hopeful they will always still need me, whether I am being serious or silly.

Thanks for reading my late night ramblings.

Elfin Magic

I thought elves were kind creatures who baked cookies in trees...turns out they also kill their young. Who knew?

WOOO SAAAAH

First of all, I do NOT have time to write this, so if it's sloppy and hard for you to read, sorry...I will come back to edit later. I had to sit down and say a few things.

1.) I swear I could hire a team (not really, can't afford it...just go with me on this one) to clean my house around the clock, but due to the fact that we are the proud owners (owners??) of a 2.5 year old...our house would STILL be dirty because she is in fact a human tornado. You know on that movie 'The Sixth Sense' when Toni Colette walks out of the kitchen where her son is, then she comes back like 3 seconds later and ALL THE FREAKIN CABINET DOORS ARE OPEN??? Yeah, that's what it's like at our house, but instead of cabinets open, it's toys!! I swear her toys are breeding somewhere because there is NO WAY we ever purchased all of the toys I am constantly finding lying about this place!

2.) If the cleaning solution you are about to purchase over the counter (meaning you did not develop it in a lab somewhere or purchase it from a chemist who sold it to you on a top secret black market) and the label says scrub free...IT'S BULLSHIT. Nothing is scub free. You ALWAYS have to do at least SOME scrubbing. Usually a LOT of scrubbing.

3.) I have been trying to leave this house since 10:00 am CST to go to the grocery store to purchase milk and a few other items, yet somehow I have managed to find a zillion things to clean/pick up/scrub/fold-refold/wash/dry/julienne and I still feel like I haven't done anything productive.

and finally...

D.) Thanks for reading this. The washer just beeped, the kid needs me to open a candy cane for her (not even sure how/where she got her hands on THAT since it's almost JULY) but I am going to let her eat it in the hopes it will be just tainted enough to make her take a nap. Is that bad??

Love you mean it. Keep reading, tell a friend.

Funny chicks.

Recently when I was watching 'The Heartbreak Kid' I heard something very profound that really made me think...Ben Stiller's dad Jerry is in the movie, playing Ben Stiller's Dad. He is talking about funny women when he says "Funny's a male gene, you idiot. Haven't you ever noticed whenever you see a really funny girl, she's a little mannish? Think about it. Lily Tomlin, Ellen DeGeneres, Rosie O'Donnell.."


And I started to think about it...and that statement is painfully true! Holy schneikies he's onto something there. Don't get me wrong there are a few funny chicks that aren't mannish...but they have a huge gay male following, like Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Kristen Wiig and Kathy Griffin...well Kathy is slightly less mannish with her bolt-ons. What can I do to butch it up a notch or round up a gaggle of gays that will follow me?? I mean, I have been told by two or three-ish peeps that I do tickle a funny bone, but I don't find myself to be mannish, and I do have some gay friends but not enough to fill my living room, let alone Madison Square Garden.

It's hard to parlay this "funny" thing into a career with two strikes against me right from the giddyup. Maybe Tina Fey will read my shit one day and she will be all like "Wow! She is a talented writer who, like me, can create chin acne under pressure and also make me laugh!! I want to be her boss!" I just read 'Bossypants' by T-Fey (that's what I call her, she is my hero and shit) we go waaahaaay back to like a week ago when I bought her book off Amazon. I followed her through her career on SNL (my childhood dream job) and now on 30 Rock. She is a brilliant writer and I aspire to be just like her someday, well not JUST like her. I am far too lazy to achieve 1/87th of her greatness, plus there's no way I could possibly dream of pulling off acid wash jeans the way she can. That bitch has skillz.

Gnight peeps.