I was just informed

that I'm too old to be a fashion model.  Because fashion models are in their teens or twenties and have sexy tans.

But I'm not so old that I should be at the senior house where farts are silent but deadly (this comes from a visit with their great grandmother who cleared the room).

And I'm also to old to climb.

It would be inappropriate of me to bill them for breast and labial reconstruction right?  Right.

It's all for you...

The setting:  My living room, 7:50 a.m., Wednesday morning

The Characters: Me, son #1

(I'm sitting on a chair looking at my iphone, waiting for dilly dally to get his shoes & coat on so I can take him to school)

Son:  "Stop texting and let's go!"

Me:  "I'm not texting, I'm reading the news, and stop thinking you can tell me what to do.  I'm the parent, you're the child."

Son:  "Well it won't always be that way."

Me:  "Yes it will, you will always be my child."

Son:  "No, when you're old and shivery, you'll have to answer to me."

Then he shot me this look:

I did shiver a little.  

You better run, you better take cover.

To the silver strangers appearing down under:

You are not welcome here.  Please hand the land back over to the aboriginal population or you will find yourselves the victims of complete deforestation.

Faster than I can say "Gillette."

Chompers

I'm all for non-invasive cosmetic procedures that take years off your looks.  One thing I'm surprised more people don't think about is their teeth.  Dingy teeth make you look old and well, dingy.  There are so many products out there to help whatever your budget.

Here's my rating of what I have tried over the years on a scale of 1-10:

Crest White Strips:  6+.  Pretty good results, not a shocking difference for me but the price is affordable ($30-$40).

Go Smile:  2.  Completely a victim of a slick informercial coupled with temporary insanity and vodka.  I can't remember what it cost, but whatever it was, it was 100% more than it should have been.

Zoom Whitening:  7+.  I did this before my 20th high school reunion through my dentist.   I expected more of a "wow" effect.  It was good, but not great.  I would have been pretty bummed out about spending the cash (it was a chunk - $400) if it hadn't been for my dentist's policy of also making a tray mold for touch ups.  Which leads me to:

Professional Tray Mold and gel: 9.  I felt like I got the best results from the tray.  If I were to only have done this part it would have been half the cost at my dentist ($200).

Whatever you do, I hope you don't end up with teeth like these from the ad on my facebook page.  

WILLLBURRRR!  Talk about photoshop gone wrong.  Someone give this poor woman a carrot.

Let's rub this on the economy

This is an arnica flower.  Yesterday I was getting out of the shower and for some unknown reason decided to very enthusiastically hoist my leg up and out of the basin and straight into where the tile forms a corner.  Ouchy mama.

After yelling the f word 10 times give or take, I assessed the damages.  There was a seam straight down the side of the top of my knee, it was bright red and starting to swell.  Those of you who exercise on a regular basis know exactly what was going though my head.  "Great, how much/how long is this going to set me back.  Can I go to spin tomorrow? And just when I was feeling so good!"

I slathered some arnica gel on it right away.  If you don't have arnica on hand, get some.  It's amazing in my opinion, especially if you can get it on the injury quickly.  I think it works best for contusion type injuries, not as well on pulls and strains.  I fell down our front steps last winter and had the nastiest bruise ever on my ass (my 4 year old said while watching me get into the shower "mommy who spilled grape juice on your bum?") and the arnica helped it heal much quicker than it would have on its own.  You can find it at anywhere that carries homeopathic medicines or online.

Last night it hurt to walk up and down stairs.  This morning, totally fine.  Hooray for arnica!

The Tooth Fairy is a LOSER.

My son lost his first tooth in a long while this week.  He has this thing where he won't give the tooth to the Tooth Fairy, he leaves her a note about how he'd like to keep the tooth, which he then proceeds to lose under our furniture.  Hopefully our house won't be the scene of a CSI investigation anytime soon.

He put the note under his pillow Wednesday night.  Thursday morning I go in to wake him up, first thing he does is sit straight up and look under the pillow, note is still there.  I am a deer in the headlights.  Then followed a very uncomfortable 5 seconds of silence while we sized up the other's reaction.

"It's still there! It's you ISN'T it!  And you FORGOT!"

Crossroads.  Do I lie?  Do I confess?  Do I let him join the half of the kids in third grade that don't believe in the TF or Santa?  

"Now have a little faith.  I'm sure there's a good reason.  You know how the Tooth Fairy brings you gold coins?  Well, maybe with the run on gold she's having a hard time finding them."

This was the best I could do under duress.  I will say, this explanation did lead to quite the macro economics discussion at bedtime last night.  

And now we arrive at this morning, where it is discovered that I forgot yet again.  What an effing loser.

Mamadamus?

I'm getting a little freaked out.  In the blog, I mention a plane falling on my house, a few days later a plane falls on someone's house in Buffalo.  I mention chimps.  Chimp goes crazy (yes that took restraint) in the tri-state area.  I have a problem with feeling responsible for things beyond my control as it it.  So is this coincidence or am I unknowingly a soothsayer?  Just in case it's the latter, I thought I'd mention a few more things:

Lasting peace in the middle east, husband's obsession with mega millions tickets pays off, cure for cancer, solid economic recovery, free boob job, end to world hunger and disease, people are nice to each other, Jersey people learn to drive like civilized humans, children are healthy and happy, did I mention free boob job, miraculously can eat chips and dip without gaining an ounce or being bad for me, win free landscaping, have strange throat virus emerge with the singing voice of Annie Lennox.

That should cover it.

Speaking of hats

Son #1 had to go back to school today after a 4 day weekend. Anxieties were running high as usual. He was discussing a particular issue with me and I was attempting to make constructive suggestions. One of my suggestions was to talk to his teacher about his worry without mentioning any of the kids by name.

He brushed off my idea on his way out the door and said "no, I don't think so mom. I'd rather just keep it under hats."

Here's a couple of monkeys under hats.  How about staging that photo session?  "Three Elmo's (check), two Cookie Monsters (check), one freaked out monkey in cap & overalls (check)."  If I got to name the one on the right he would totally be "Scorsese".

Pardon me while I scratch my balls.

Remember that middle aged female teacher with the mustache or crazy chin hairs we all made fun of in high school? Yeah, well karma is a dirty bastard and his name is testosterone. I am losing my mind over this thing. You know how people fantasize about the things they would do if they won the lottery? Stuff like "I would hire a personal chef" or "I would have a live-in massage therapist". After I started my charitable foundation, I would hire a personal groomer. This person's daily responsibility would be to comb over my body and face every few hours looking for stray hairs with the intensity of a starving chimp combing a band mate for fleas.

For those of you who are too young or lucky enough not to have experienced this phenomenon, hormone levels begin to change as you age. Women always have female and male hormones present, but the ratio or balance can shift before, during and after menopause. I am assuming based on what's going on in my body that I have "shifted" a bit to the male side. I have never been a hairy person, fuzzy yes, hairy no. Also, most of the unwanted hair I've ever had has been blonde so it hasn't been that easy to see. This is just nuts. I have dark black hairs growing out of BAD places. If someone had told me I would start turning into my orthodontist around 38 or 39 I may have taken more risks in life.

The wanna be scientist in me tries to figure out what could possibly be the evolutionary reason for any of this. The only thing I can come up with is that it was like a neon sign for potential cavemates that said "don't pick this one, her eggs are drying up by the minute." Not to mention the fact that nothing says do me like a nice patch of nipple hair.

I'm exhausted by all of the searching, tweezing and plucking. I read this horrible book called "The Ruins" where vines ate people. I'm afraid this is what will happen if I relax for even a day.

The upside to the testosterone is that I do have a pretty darn healthy sex drive. And I can bench like 210.

Mama Stimulus

That sounded naughty didn't it? Honestly, I'm talking about the economy here folks. We were having a lovely dinner with friends last night and discussing the psychological side of the current financial crisis. Everyone keeps comparing our current situation to the Great Depression but I think there is a huge a factor in the current situation that wasn't nearly as much of a factor then. Too many people flapping their gums (or their fingers) and too many people listening.

The groupthink, cattle herd, lemming mentality drove so much of the housing bubble and the subsequent bursting, not to mention the run on WaMu, Lehman Brothers and the market as a whole. It seems that very few investors look at fundamentals, earnings, balance sheets or anything really factual - they just react to what they hear.

So instead of fighting this phenomenon, let's work with it. The stimulus is a done deal. We need to it to work. We need the housing market to stabilize. So let's start the new groupthink here. Here's my mantra:

1. The stimulus will take some time, but it will work.
2. The housing market has hit bottom and is showing signs of life.
3. We have learned many good lessons from all of this.
4. The markets will begin a solid, albeit slower paced recovery in late 2009 or early 2010.
5. The slower recovery is a good thing, it will fend off inflation.

OK, now you tell ten friends, and they tell ten friends and we're on our way.

Happy Belated Birthday Jen

I meant to post a happy 40th birthday message to Jennifer Aniston yesterday but I was in my bed at 7:45 quaking with chills.  Seems all my effort not to succumb to the bug in my house was for naught.  So I am feeling a little better today, but still posting from bed in my pajamas with bizarre sharp pains in my stomach.

This video made me feel better.  Hope it makes you feel better too.

Puke on me once...

I've been a parent for 9 years as of yesterday (happy birthday to my beautiful, incredible, HUGE boy).  You would think I'd have the sense to move my ass when I hear the words "mommy my tummy hurts" at 4:30 a.m.  (or at least the muscle memory).  But I didn't.  I was still exhausted from Saturday's Spin Teacher orientation and in the middle of that deepest sleep of the night.

I hesitated.  I asked 2 too many questions (1. Do you have to poop? 2. Do you have to throw up?) and paid dearly with a comforter, a coverlet, a sheepskin throw and an area rug.

I have spent the first day of what was supposed to be an incredibly productive week watching (OK sleeping through) a Scooby-doo movie in my bed, cuddling on the couch, doing barf laundry and staying in PJ's until 4 p.m.  I have to work on a project tonight that I had wanted to get a jump on today and now probably can't work out until at least Wednesday.

This video symbolically represents how I am feeling.  Blessed to have my adorable children, but sometimes I'd just really like to do some freakin' yoga in peace, preferably near an ocean with no one under 4 ft. 6 inches within miles.  I think I need a vacation.

Warning:  Boob alert.  Disclaimer: If this video offends you, you are reading the wrong blog.

Fuzzy Bath Mat DEFILED!

The other night I was sitting on the couch minding my beezwax when I heard a noise that sounded like Capt'n Sully missed the Hudson this time and landed on my house.  It was my husband falling down the attic stairs.  First off, yes he's fine, but I'd rather not hear the sound of a 6'1" manly-man fall down the stairs of a 100 year old house as long as I live.

Our door to the attic has this metal grate at the foot of it to allow heat up there (I'm guessing).  When he fell, he must have put his foot out Fred Flinstone style to brake.  Instead, he went Last of the Mohicans style and managed to scalp his foot.  It was nasty pants.  After he was done bleeding all about the living room we managed to bandage him up and put him to bed.

I used to have a Golden Retriever.  He would get owies on his paws all the time and leave little bloody pawprints about the house.  Apparently I still have one.  I guess my husband didn't put it together that a gaping hole in one's foot just might continue to ooze for a few days.  He left his pawprints all over Fuzzy Bath Mat AND Towely thing #1 AND Towely thing #2.  Thank goodness I am the Stain Master Flash.

If you ever have a stain on something white than can be laundered, I have a stain removal tip for you.  Take a squirt bottle and fill it 50% with hydrogen peroxide and 50% with Original Dawn dishwashing detergent.  Just shake it up a little and you're good to go (it will turn clear after a bit).  If the stain is bad, pre-treat it and let it soak awhile.  Then launder as usual.  It works great on things that can't be bleached.  I use it on light colors if whatever it is will have to be thrown out if the stain can't be removed.  I've also used it on carpets (but I would test an area first).  

So with that little tidbit of domestic wisdom, I'm going to rock it to the bang, bang boogie, say up jumped the boogie, to the rhythm of the boogie, the beat.

Cuteness abounds!

Even though my baby just turned 5 he still says the cutest things that remind me of how little he still is.  I don't have the heart to correct him.  Here are a few of my favorites:

1.  Until very recently he called ear phones "ear screens."

2.  He calls Q-tips "ear whacks" 

3.  My personal fav - he calls nipples "nibbles."  As in "I am touching my nibbles."

I'm sure your kids have/had some cute phrases or made up words for things.  Do share!

(Dirty little secret)

I know how to eat.  99% of the time I eat uber healthy.  Here's a typical day of my eats:

1.  Breakfast: Flax plus multibran cereal w/extra unprocessed bran on top, little bit o' Splenda, 1% milk.  Maybe a banana if I'm feeling crazy.

2.  Snacky treat: Iced Americano.

3.  Lunch: Salad w/protein.

4.  Snacky treat: Wasa bread Crisp & Light with Almond Butter.

5.  Dinner: Protein w/two different veggies.  Maybe a whole grain carb like brown rice.

6.  Dessert: Sugar free dark chocolate pudding.

Basically this is how I eat.  But I have my downfalls - alcohol and

 fried pig.  Most of my friends know of my love of bacon.  But loving bacon is kind of an accepted social norm.  I have a dirtier love.  I love fried pork rinds.  Ironically the only time I ever buy them is at this one liquor store that has small bags.  Until this week.  You will never guess where I found a huge ass bag of pork rinds for $2.  Whole-Freakin'-Foods.  This is life changing.

Not only can I buy them without having to shove them behind the two bottles of Pinot Noir, but I can hold my head up high because they have the Whole Foods stamp of approval.  Isn't that funny?  It's like because you buy something there (or a similar-type store) the negative attributes of the food suddenly disappear.  Did I just eat an entire wedge of brie?  Why yes, but it was ORGANIC BRIE.

But I digress.  Here's the beautiful thing about pork rinds.  They have way fewer calories per serving than other fried things (80 calories vs. 150 for chips for example), no carbs and some protein per serving.  And these new ones at WF are made with hormone free pork, no trans fats, no antibiotics, no pig lips (OK I made that one up) and most importantly no shame.

You could eat the entire bag of these for a mere 640 calories.  I'm not condoning or suggesting that, but who has to know.

Who has to know?

Quit nagging me!

That was me yelling at me.  I am the worst boss EVER.  Pick, pick, pick.  Micro-manager, second guesser, ride my ass biatch.  All day, every time I wanted to sit down and blog, or play word challenge, Working Girl's Sigourney Weaver here had to stick her nose in it and let me know that I needed to prioritize.  OK, fine.  Here are the things that I will accomplish this week:

1.  Thank you cards for son #2's BD.

2.  Planning for son #1 BD.

3.  Go through toys in the attic and box for donation, trash, etc.

4.  Keep up with the laundry, put away within 24 hours of folding.

5.  Keep the house clean (it is clean right now).

6.  Call the chimney dude.

7.  Finish the filing in the office.

Satisfied?  I'm going to happy hour with the gals from accounting.

What's that smell?

My husband took my son to a birthday party today.  I was on pick-up duty.  When I got into my minivan I thought to myself "what's that weird smell?"  It smelled institutional.  I thought maybe my husband left something strange in the car.  Then it dawned on me.

It was clean.  I was smelling clean.